<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978</id><updated>2011-04-22T02:09:09.125-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Il senso delle cose</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>168</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-116230803886689587</id><published>2006-10-31T12:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T12:20:38.880-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Paper Bag</title><content type='html'>FIONA APPLE&lt;br /&gt;"Paper Bag"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star&lt;br /&gt;To pray on, or wish on, or something like that&lt;br /&gt;I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy&lt;br /&gt;Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had&lt;br /&gt;But then the dove of hope began its downward slope&lt;br /&gt;And I believed for a moment that my chances&lt;br /&gt;Were approaching to be grabbed&lt;br /&gt;But as it came down near, so did a weary tear&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up&lt;br /&gt;I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love&lt;br /&gt;And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb&lt;br /&gt;Looking for a little hope&lt;br /&gt;Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine,&lt;br /&gt;And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope&lt;br /&gt;I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified&lt;br /&gt;Come on put a little love here in my void,' he said&lt;br /&gt;'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything'&lt;br /&gt;But he didn't get it I thought he was a man&lt;br /&gt;But he was just a little boy&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up&lt;br /&gt;I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up&lt;br /&gt;I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold&lt;br /&gt;Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-116230803886689587?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/116230803886689587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=116230803886689587' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/116230803886689587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/116230803886689587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2006/10/paper-bag.html' title='Paper Bag'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-115698514486264984</id><published>2006-08-30T21:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T21:45:44.876-03:00</updated><title type='text'>They can't take that away from me</title><content type='html'>The way you wear your hat&lt;br /&gt;The way you sip your tea&lt;br /&gt;The memory of all that&lt;br /&gt;No they can't take that away from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way your smile just beams&lt;br /&gt;The way you sing off key&lt;br /&gt;The way you haunt my dreams&lt;br /&gt;No they can't take that away from me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love&lt;br /&gt;Still I'll always, always keep the memory of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way you hold your knife&lt;br /&gt;The way we danced till three&lt;br /&gt;The way you changed my life&lt;br /&gt;No they can't take that away from me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-115698514486264984?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/115698514486264984/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=115698514486264984' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115698514486264984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115698514486264984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2006/08/they-cant-take-that-away-from-me.html' title='They can&apos;t take that away from me'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-115282449045123149</id><published>2006-07-13T18:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T18:01:30.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Gustavo Cerati</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;Crimen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La espera me agotó&lt;br /&gt;no se nada de vos&lt;br /&gt;dejaste tanto en mí&lt;br /&gt;En llamas me acosté&lt;br /&gt;y en un lento degradé&lt;br /&gt;supe que te perdí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué otra cosa puedo hacer?&lt;br /&gt;si no olvido, moriré&lt;br /&gt;y otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;sin resolver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una rápida traición&lt;br /&gt;y salimos del amor&lt;br /&gt;tal vez me lo busqué.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi ego va a estallar&lt;br /&gt;ahí donde no estás&lt;br /&gt;oh? los celos otra vez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿Qué otra cosa puedo hacer?&lt;br /&gt;si no olvido moriré&lt;br /&gt;y otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;sin resolver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No lo sé&lt;br /&gt;cuanto falta no lo sé&lt;br /&gt;si es muy tarde no lo sé&lt;br /&gt;si no olvido, moriré&lt;br /&gt;que otra cosa puedo hacer?&lt;br /&gt;que otra cosa puedo hacer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora sé lo que es perder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;otro crimen quedará&lt;br /&gt;sin resolver&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Al fin Sucede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy un poco harto de entrar en tus juegos de mente&lt;br /&gt;otra nube gris se aproxima&lt;br /&gt;y yo sé, que tanto le temes&lt;br /&gt;que al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te es más fácil no creer en nada&lt;br /&gt;ni en nadie&lt;br /&gt;negación de tu parte&lt;br /&gt;ya estoy haciendo planes sin vos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La vida dura un salto, quedarse, una muerte segura&lt;br /&gt;este era el momento y lo echaste a perder&lt;br /&gt;tanto le temes que al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo lo que necesitas&lt;br /&gt;es una duda razonable&lt;br /&gt;para mostrarte tu deseo&lt;br /&gt;basta con prohibírtelo un poco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanto lo deseas que al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;tanto le temes&lt;br /&gt;que al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;al fin sucede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sucede... al fin sucede...&lt;br /&gt;sucede... al fin sucede...&lt;br /&gt;sucede... al fin sucede...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Otra Piel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta tarde de sol me puse a mirar&lt;br /&gt;tu postal bajo un haz de luz&lt;br /&gt;(radiante luz)&lt;br /&gt;una frase duró hasta el anochecer&lt;br /&gt;recordarte es un hermoso lugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amo tu lucidez&lt;br /&gt;leo tu desnudez&lt;br /&gt;cuando pensás el mar&lt;br /&gt;así te pienso igual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si el lenguaje es otra piel&lt;br /&gt;toquémonos más&lt;br /&gt;con mensajes de deseo&lt;br /&gt;si el lenguaje es otra piel&lt;br /&gt;toquémonos más&lt;br /&gt;con mensajes de deseo&lt;br /&gt;(deseo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No voy a endurecer&lt;br /&gt;letras que dan placer&lt;br /&gt;me contengo de amarte más&lt;br /&gt;hasta volverte a ver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si el lenguaje es otra piel&lt;br /&gt;toquémonos más&lt;br /&gt;con mensajes de deseo&lt;br /&gt;si el lenguaje es otra piel&lt;br /&gt;toquémonos más&lt;br /&gt;con mensajes de deseo&lt;br /&gt;deseo?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-115282449045123149?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/115282449045123149/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=115282449045123149' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115282449045123149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115282449045123149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2006/07/gustavo-cerati.html' title='Gustavo Cerati'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-115282367656195274</id><published>2006-07-13T17:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T17:47:56.576-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fionna in me</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;FIONA APPLE&lt;br /&gt;"A Mistake"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna make a mistake&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna do it on purpose&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna waste my time&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I'm full as a tick&lt;br /&gt;And I'm scratching at the surface&lt;br /&gt;And what I find is mine&lt;br /&gt;And when the day is done, and I look back&lt;br /&gt;And the fact is I had fun, fumbling around&lt;br /&gt;All the advice I shunned, and I ran&lt;br /&gt;Where they told me not to run, but I sure&lt;br /&gt;Had fun, so&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna f*** it up again&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna do another detour&lt;br /&gt;Unpave my path&lt;br /&gt;And if you wanna make sense&lt;br /&gt;Whatcha looking at me for&lt;br /&gt;I'm no good at math&lt;br /&gt;And when I find my way back,&lt;br /&gt;The fact is I just may stay, or I may not&lt;br /&gt;I've acquired quite a taste&lt;br /&gt;For a wellmade mistake&lt;br /&gt;I wanna mistake why can't I make a mistake?&lt;br /&gt;I'm always doing what I think I should&lt;br /&gt;Almost always doing everybody good&lt;br /&gt;Why&lt;br /&gt;Do I wanna do right, of course but&lt;br /&gt;Do I really wanna feel I'm forced to&lt;br /&gt;Answer you, hell no&lt;br /&gt;I've acquired quite a taste&lt;br /&gt;For a wellmade mistake, I wanna&lt;br /&gt;Make a mistake, why can't I make a mistake&lt;br /&gt;I'm always doing what I think I should&lt;br /&gt;Almost always doing everybody good&lt;br /&gt;Why&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIONA APPLE&lt;br /&gt;"Sullen Girl"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days like this&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what&lt;br /&gt;To do with myself&lt;br /&gt;All day and all night&lt;br /&gt;I wander the halls&lt;br /&gt;Along the walls and&lt;br /&gt;Under my breath&lt;br /&gt;I say to myself&lt;br /&gt;I need fuel&lt;br /&gt;To take flight&lt;br /&gt;And there's too&lt;br /&gt;Much going on&lt;br /&gt;But it's calm under&lt;br /&gt;The waves&lt;br /&gt;In the blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;Under the waves in&lt;br /&gt;The blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that why they call me&lt;br /&gt;A sullen girl, sullen girl&lt;br /&gt;They don't know&lt;br /&gt;I used to sail the&lt;br /&gt;Deep and tranquil sea&lt;br /&gt;But he washed me shore&lt;br /&gt;And he took my pearl&lt;br /&gt;And left an empty&lt;br /&gt;Shell of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's too&lt;br /&gt;Much going on&lt;br /&gt;But it's calm under the waves&lt;br /&gt;In the blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;Under the waves&lt;br /&gt;In the blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;Under the waves&lt;br /&gt;In the blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;It's calm under the waves&lt;br /&gt;In the blue of my oblivion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIONA APPLE&lt;br /&gt;"The First Taste"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lie in an early bed&lt;br /&gt;Thinking late thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the black&lt;br /&gt;To replace my blue&lt;br /&gt;I do not struggle&lt;br /&gt;In your web&lt;br /&gt;Because it was my&lt;br /&gt;Aim to get caught&lt;br /&gt;But daddy longlegs&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I'm finally&lt;br /&gt;Growing weary&lt;br /&gt;Of waiting to be&lt;br /&gt;Consumed by you&lt;br /&gt;Give me the first taste&lt;br /&gt;Let it begin&lt;br /&gt;Heaven cannot wait forever&lt;br /&gt;Darling, just start the chase&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you win&lt;br /&gt;But you must&lt;br /&gt;Make the endeavour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, your love gives&lt;br /&gt;Me a heart confusion&lt;br /&gt;Adagio breezes fill&lt;br /&gt;My skin with sudden red&lt;br /&gt;Your hungry flirt&lt;br /&gt;Borders intrusion&lt;br /&gt;I'm building memories on&lt;br /&gt;Things we have not said&lt;br /&gt;Full is not heavy as empty&lt;br /&gt;Not nearly my love&lt;br /&gt;Not nearly my love&lt;br /&gt;Not nearly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me the first taste&lt;br /&gt;Let it begin&lt;br /&gt;Heaven cannot wait forever&lt;br /&gt;Darling, just start the chase&lt;br /&gt;I'll let you win&lt;br /&gt;But you must&lt;br /&gt;Make the endeavour&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-115282367656195274?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/115282367656195274/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=115282367656195274' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115282367656195274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/115282367656195274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2006/07/fionna-in-me.html' title='Fionna in me'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-112622834364928852</id><published>2005-09-08T22:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T22:12:23.656-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Doom</title><content type='html'>Incrível como voltamos à idade média.&lt;br /&gt;Agora os paladinos da verdade e suas trombetas da justiça anunciam, "Bruxa! Monstro!", e todos os cidadãos de bem sobem a colina com tochas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém percebe o que acontece enquanto estão cegos pela justiça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E enquanto isso, a Terra parece estar confiscando a propriedade que alugamos há tanto tempo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-112622834364928852?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/112622834364928852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=112622834364928852' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/112622834364928852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/112622834364928852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/09/of-doom.html' title='Of Doom'/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-112457230959080978</id><published>2005-08-20T18:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-08-20T18:11:49.596-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Letters*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significado, direção, caminho. Talvez eu possa escolher, talvez a escolha já tenha sido feita. Maybe my life was tainted by hers. Talvez eu tenha sucumbido à falácia da independência e autenticidade. Enquanto fingia estar sendo eu mesma, estava desaparecendo e ficando tão transparente, tão sem profundidade, que mal posso sentir o que sou.&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto tento me sustentar, ouvindo ecos de superioridade na minha mente, é só nela que posso continuar assim. E como a superioridade é rasa, a queda é sempre vergonhosa. A cada dia que passo me sinto mais sem propósito. Ao mesmo tempo não consigo parar de fazer planos. &lt;br /&gt;Eu olho em volta e vejo que não sou só eu. Nem nisso sou só eu. É difícil aceitar, não, não sou só eu? Sou só e ao mesmo tempo, nada é novo, tudo é igual, numa perpétua repetição que todos fingem ser original.&lt;br /&gt;E eu escolho logo o caminho de projetar repetições.&lt;br /&gt;Não seria diferente em outro lugar, não seria diferente.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que se estivesse satisfeita não seria tão ansiosa.&lt;br /&gt;É muito engraçado o poder da mente. A dor que me provoca a tristeza. O corpo realmente acredita que carrego o peso do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu digo, "quero ser isso.". Me perguntam, "quer mesmo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha, pra falar a verdade, quero ser livre. O problema é que tem todos esses labirintos no caminho...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-112457230959080978?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/112457230959080978/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=112457230959080978' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/112457230959080978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/112457230959080978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/08/letters-significado-direo-caminho.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111943901312272753</id><published>2005-06-22T08:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T08:16:53.126-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Eu não gosto muito do Mainardi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas como queria ter exclamado algo assim na aula de sociologia ontem...Sem ligar pras retaliações, assim como ele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"A nossa literatura é a literatura demagógica e a melhor representação é a literatura nordestina. É miserabilista, ela é piedosa, tem piedade pelo pobre. Não é uma literatura engajada realmente. Paternalista, demagógica. Isso tudo sempre me incomodou muito. Não tem um real interesse pela massa. Inclusive é manipulada para conquistar favores políticos. Nossos escritores sempre tiveram um histórico de associação com o poder."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.capitolio.org/content/view/99/2/1/1/"&gt;Tirado daqui&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111943901312272753?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111943901312272753/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111943901312272753' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111943901312272753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111943901312272753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/06/eu-no-gosto-muito-do-mainardi-mas-como.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111896232950318704</id><published>2005-06-16T19:51:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T19:52:09.506-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Ele pediu demissão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora o óbvio e ululante está pulando e rindo na nossa cara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ANTES DA POSSE:&lt;br /&gt;  Nosso partido cumpre o que promete.&lt;br /&gt;  Só os tolos podem crer que&lt;br /&gt;  não lutaremos contra a corrupção.&lt;br /&gt;  Porque, se há algo certo para nós, é que&lt;br /&gt;  a honestidade e a transparência são fundamentais.&lt;br /&gt;  para alcançar nossos ideais&lt;br /&gt;  Mostraremos que é grande estupidez crer que&lt;br /&gt;  as máfias continuarão no governo, como sempre.&lt;br /&gt;  Asseguramos sem dúvida que&lt;br /&gt;  a justiça social será o alvo de nossa ação.&lt;br /&gt;  Apesar disso, há idiotas que imaginam que&lt;br /&gt;  se possa governar com as manchas da velha política.&lt;br /&gt;  Quando assumirmos o poder, faremos tudo para que&lt;br /&gt;  se termine com os marajás e as negociatas.&lt;br /&gt;  Não permitiremos de nenhum modo que&lt;br /&gt;  nossas crianças morram de fome.&lt;br /&gt;  Cumpriremos nossos propósitos mesmo que&lt;br /&gt;  os recursos econômicos do país se esgotem.&lt;br /&gt;  Exerceremos o poder até que&lt;br /&gt;  Compreendam que&lt;br /&gt;  Somos a nova política.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;APÓS A POSSE:&lt;br /&gt;  LEIA DE BAIXO PARA CIMA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111896232950318704?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111896232950318704/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111896232950318704' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111896232950318704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111896232950318704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/06/ele-pediu-demisso-agora-o-bvio-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111548506073405564</id><published>2005-05-07T13:55:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T13:57:41.136-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Designer Utópica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ando lendo muito sobre sociologia porque estou fazendo uma matéria dessa área na faculdade.&lt;br /&gt;Está me ajudando a desenvolver meu projeto de pesquisa pra, quem sabe, eu conseguir sacodir a poeira e ir pro Japão.&lt;br /&gt;O problema é que eu estou com medo de virar Marxista. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The demand to give up illusions about the existing state of affairs is the demand to give up a state of affairs which needs illusions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faz mó sentido pra mim isso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111548506073405564?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111548506073405564/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111548506073405564' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111548506073405564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111548506073405564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/05/designer-utpica-ando-lendo-muito-sobre.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111548492167250311</id><published>2005-05-07T13:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-05-07T13:55:21.680-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Antes de mais nada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mudei o layout viu?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111548492167250311?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111548492167250311/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111548492167250311' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111548492167250311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111548492167250311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/05/antes-de-mais-nada-mudei-o-layout-viu.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111430815514823544</id><published>2005-04-23T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-04-23T23:02:35.150-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Medão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou muito prepotente. Agora deu nisso.&lt;br /&gt;Cadê a vida que eu sonhava? O precipício tá chegando e o tempo não pára.&lt;br /&gt;E ainda tenho que ler isso:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Eu já larguei tudo e fui pro meio do nada sim. Eu me mudei para Brasília!"&lt;br /&gt;-Eugenio Bucci, durante palestra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Site do Curso Abril.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cara, que sentimento de tempo perdido...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111430815514823544?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111430815514823544/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111430815514823544' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111430815514823544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111430815514823544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/04/medo-eu-sou-muito-prepotente.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111369639869154341</id><published>2005-04-16T21:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T00:30:34.753-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Rousseau&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every blue-stocking will remain a spinster as long as there are sensible men on the earth.&lt;br /&gt;  [Fr., Toute fille lettree restera fille toute sa vie, quand il n'y aura que des hommes senses sur la terre.]&lt;br /&gt;      - Emile (I, 5)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Todas as mulheres letradas ficar&amp;Atilde;&amp;fnof;&amp;Acirc;&amp;pound;o s&amp;Atilde;&amp;fnof;&amp;Acirc;&amp;sup3;s por toda a vida, enquanto haja um homem sensato sobre a terra."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palavras de Jean-Jacques, ora, maldito, bem mereceu o nariz horroroso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*update*&lt;br /&gt;Acabei de ver que o J&amp;atilde;o-j&amp;atilde;o tinha um nariz bonito. Mas pensando bem, tinha cara de ot&amp;aacute;rio. The inside matches the outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111369639869154341?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111369639869154341/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111369639869154341' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111369639869154341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111369639869154341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/04/rousseau-every-blue-stocking-will.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111341864747101688</id><published>2005-04-13T15:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T15:57:27.473-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Cefaléia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The more you see the less you know&lt;br /&gt;The less you find out as you go&lt;br /&gt;I knew much more then than I do now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; U2,"City Of Blinding Lights"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111341864747101688?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111341864747101688/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111341864747101688' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111341864747101688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111341864747101688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/04/cefalia-more-you-see-less-you-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111283416498128699</id><published>2005-04-06T21:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T21:36:04.980-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Os pais morrem&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O pai de um amigo do meu irm&amp;atilde;o morreu no come&amp;ccedil;o de mar&amp;ccedil;o&lt;br /&gt;O pai de outro amigo do meu irm&amp;atilde;o morreu no final de mar&amp;ccedil;o&lt;br /&gt;O Papa morreu e sempre parece recente&lt;br /&gt;O Pai da dinastia atual de M&amp;ocirc;naco tamb&amp;eacute;m morreu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pais morrem &lt;br /&gt;Os filhos viram adultos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assustador, n&amp;atilde;o?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111283416498128699?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111283416498128699/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111283416498128699' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111283416498128699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111283416498128699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/04/os-pais-morrem-o-pai-de-um-amigo-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111281795095572143</id><published>2005-04-06T17:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T17:05:50.956-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ah eu ia continuar o assunto que come&amp;ccedil;ei no FRAM&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas n&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o vou n&amp;atilde;o. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111281795095572143?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111281795095572143/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111281795095572143' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111281795095572143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111281795095572143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/04/ah-eu-ia-continuar-o-assunto-que-comeo.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111223890723029042</id><published>2005-03-31T00:15:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T00:15:07.230-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like falling asleep and never waking up&lt;br /&gt;It's not that my glass is empty but I need another cup&lt;br /&gt;When all of the doors around me just shut one by one&lt;br /&gt;I feel like falling asleep but the party's just begun&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111223890723029042?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111223890723029042/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111223890723029042' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111223890723029042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111223890723029042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-feel-like-falling-asleep-and-never.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111215021558218525</id><published>2005-03-29T23:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-03-29T23:36:55.583-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;sabe quando?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabe quando vc fica cansada da pr&amp;oacute;pria voz?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; por isso que n&amp;atilde;o ando postando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111215021558218525?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111215021558218525/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111215021558218525' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111215021558218525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111215021558218525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/03/sabe-quando-sabe-quando-vc-fica.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111102188171825218</id><published>2005-03-16T22:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-03-16T22:11:21.720-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;E ele desistiu&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mario Vasquez desistiu. &lt;br /&gt;T&amp;atilde;o bonitinho ele. Pra quem eu tor&amp;ccedil;o agora?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Eu tou falando do American Idol viu.*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111102188171825218?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111102188171825218/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111102188171825218' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111102188171825218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111102188171825218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/03/e-ele-desistiu-mario-vasquez-desistiu_16.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111091784189568029</id><published>2005-03-15T17:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T17:17:21.896-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111091784189568029?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111091784189568029/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111091784189568029' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111091784189568029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111091784189568029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/03/blog-post_15.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-111072666668368378</id><published>2005-03-13T12:11:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T12:11:06.683-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Que hist&amp;oacute;ria &amp;eacute; essa de design social agora?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa onda de assistencialismo pra mim &amp;eacute; pura demagogia.&lt;br /&gt;Design n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; uma atividade social? Acho que, em sua essencia, &amp;eacute; sim.&lt;br /&gt;Quem transformou ele em uma t&amp;eacute;cnica pra aumentar lucros fomos n&amp;oacute;s.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-111072666668368378?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/111072666668368378/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=111072666668368378' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111072666668368378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/111072666668368378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/03/que-hists.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110962211570477044</id><published>2005-02-28T17:21:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T17:21:55.703-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Sem sentido&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H&amp;aacute; tantos obst&amp;aacute;culos pra tudo, contabilizando perdas e danos acaba n&amp;atilde;o sobrando muito.&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o quero sobreviver. Essa subvida.&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o posso esquecer quem eu sou enquanto corro atr&amp;aacute;s do preju&amp;iacute;zo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu me sinto encurralada e escondida, como agente de mercado negro, contrabandeando os meus ideais.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei como fazer o certo, mas na pr&amp;aacute;tica, eles viram os olhinhos - "ora, t&amp;aacute; reclamando do que?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui fico eu com essa pinta de Don Quixote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o quero mandar em ningu&amp;eacute;m, mas eu sinto que algo precisa ser feito,&lt;br /&gt;pra que esperar que algu&amp;eacute;m tome alguma atitude?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algu&amp;eacute;m me d&amp;ecirc; uma boa raz&amp;atilde;o pra n&amp;atilde;o continuar&lt;br /&gt;Pq tem dias que eu quero muito largar tudo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu s&amp;oacute; n&amp;atilde;o consigo pensar nos 'pr&amp;oacute;s' disso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu penso bem;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ningu&amp;eacute;m vai ficar aqui cuidando de mim;&lt;br /&gt;P&amp;aacute;ssaro fraco tem que aprender a voar mais cedo.&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria mesmo escapar dessa realidade, &lt;br /&gt;sinto as paredes se fechando sobre mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tem tanta coisa que eu quero fazer, &lt;br /&gt;mal posso esperar pro resto da minha vida come&amp;ccedil;ar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ruim mesmo &amp;eacute; dar um tempo na correria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e se dar conta que, puxa, estou sozinha&lt;br /&gt;e nada que eu fa&amp;ccedil;a pode mudar isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110962211570477044?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110962211570477044/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110962211570477044' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110962211570477044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110962211570477044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/sem-sentido-ha-pode-mudar-isso.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110962169428885254</id><published>2005-02-28T17:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T17:14:54.286-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Essa m&amp;uacute;sica &amp;eacute; muito linda&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Principalmente nesse dia bem &amp;uuml;bermelanc&amp;oacute;lico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt; A Man and A Woman&lt;/b&gt;(u2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little sister don&amp;rsquo;t you worry about a thing today&lt;br /&gt;Take the heat from the sun&lt;br /&gt;Little sister&lt;br /&gt;I know that everything is not ok&lt;br /&gt;But you&amp;rsquo;re like honey on my tongue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True love never can be rent&lt;br /&gt;But only true love can keep beauty innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;Of losing love to find romance&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;No I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lsquo;Cos I could never understand&lt;br /&gt;The mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can run from love&lt;br /&gt;And if it&amp;rsquo;s really love it will find you&lt;br /&gt;Catch you by the heel&lt;br /&gt;But you can&amp;rsquo;t be numb for love&lt;br /&gt;The only pain is to feel nothing at all&lt;br /&gt;How can I hurt when I&amp;rsquo;m holding you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could never take a chance&lt;br /&gt;Of losing love to find romance&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you&amp;rsquo;re the one, there&amp;rsquo;s no-one else&lt;br /&gt;You make me want to lose myself&lt;br /&gt;In the mysterious distance&lt;br /&gt;Between a man and a woman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110962169428885254?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110962169428885254/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110962169428885254' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110962169428885254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110962169428885254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/essa-ms-no-one-else-you-make-me-want.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110918086012528118</id><published>2005-02-23T14:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T14:47:40.126-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;E, falando em dicotomia...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;A fal&amp;aacute;cia da dicotomia Teoria-Pr&amp;aacute;tica&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por MAUR&amp;Iacute;CIO CUST&amp;Oacute;DIO SERAFIM&lt;br /&gt;Professor do curso de Economia da Universidade do Extremo Sul Catarinense &amp;#8211; Unesc (Crici&amp;uacute;ma-SC) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A preocupa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o com a pr&amp;aacute;tica pode se tornar um mal entendido quando se antagoniza com a teoria, ou seja, quando a primeira &amp;eacute; vista como prioridade, relegando &amp;agrave; segunda um car&amp;aacute;ter de "mal necess&amp;aacute;rio". Tomando isso como certo, est&amp;aacute; se considerando que uma &amp;eacute; mais importante que outra, considera&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o essa apenas poss&amp;iacute;vel se dicotomizarmos a teoria da pr&amp;aacute;tica. Feita a separa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, uma parece ter vida pr&amp;oacute;pria em rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &amp;agrave; outra, adquirindo status diferenciados.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Consideremos, ent&amp;atilde;o, que realmente sejam auto-suficientes. A teoria, fora da pr&amp;aacute;tica social, se assemelha ao livro colocado em uma biblioteca que ningu&amp;eacute;m l&amp;ecirc;. Sua exist&amp;ecirc;ncia n&amp;atilde;o faria a menor diferen&amp;ccedil;a para o estar no mundo das pessoas. Essa desvincula&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o da teoria com a pr&amp;aacute;tica a transforma em mero palavreado, que Paulo Freire chamou de verbalismo. O que criticam em rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &amp;agrave; teoria, mesmo sem o saberem, n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; a teoria em si, mas esse gosto da "palavra oca", sem nenhum tipo de compromisso com a realidade.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A pr&amp;aacute;tica, tomada como auto-suficiente, n&amp;atilde;o passa de mera t&amp;eacute;cnica. Esta nos mostra o como fazer (know-how), nos dando prescritivamente passos para realizarmos determinada tarefa. O problema est&amp;aacute; em que, com o fornecimento dessas metodologias &amp;#8211; como toda receita &amp;#8211;, h&amp;aacute; uma certa validade (muito curta, por sinal) no tempo e no espa&amp;ccedil;o, variando muito de contexto para contexto. Por exemplo, o sistema de produ&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, a organiza&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o administrativa, a realidade econ&amp;ocirc;mica, variam de empresa para empresa, de regi&amp;atilde;o para regi&amp;atilde;o. Na universidade &amp;eacute; imposs&amp;iacute;vel ensinar todas as poss&amp;iacute;veis t&amp;eacute;cnicas de todos os poss&amp;iacute;veis contextos em que o aluno ir&amp;aacute; se inserir. Neste caso, o aluno ter&amp;aacute; que possuir as condi&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es m&amp;iacute;nimas e necess&amp;aacute;rias para que possa desenvolver a habilidade para quando se deparar como o novo, saber avali&amp;aacute;-lo, julg&amp;aacute;-lo, apreend&amp;ecirc;-lo e modific&amp;aacute;-lo de acordo com a realidade na qual est&amp;aacute; inserido. Em uma frase, dever&amp;aacute; ser aut&amp;ocirc;nomo e n&amp;atilde;o aut&amp;ocirc;mato. Sob o ponto de vista apenas da pr&amp;aacute;tica, o indiv&amp;iacute;duo fica &amp;agrave; merc&amp;ecirc; da t&amp;eacute;cnica e, portanto, se torna aut&amp;ocirc;mato, simples repetidor.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Quando olhamos a teoria e a pr&amp;aacute;tica em rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, se dissipam os dois cen&amp;aacute;rios acima comentados. A teoria n&amp;atilde;o se torna verbalismo nem a pr&amp;aacute;tica em automatismo. Dessa forma, no entender de Paulo Freire, a teoria "implica numa inser&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o na realidade, num contato anal&amp;iacute;tico com o existente, para comprov&amp;aacute;-lo, para viv&amp;ecirc;-lo e viv&amp;ecirc;-lo plenamente, praticamente" [2]. Paulo Freire rebate a afirma&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o de que o pecado de nossa educa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; ser "te&amp;oacute;rica" dizendo que "nossa educa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; te&amp;oacute;rica porque lhe falta esse gosto da comprova&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, da inven&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, da pesquisa. Ela &amp;eacute; verbosa. Palavresca" [3], no sentido que lhe atribu&amp;iacute;mos quando a teoria se pretende auto-suficiente.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o teoria-pr&amp;aacute;tica permite entender a teoria como o farol do carro na estrada em uma noite escura, que ilumina, a cada momento, um novo &amp;acirc;ngulo e de modo diferente, a fim de decifrar a topografia do percurso. Para Frei Betto, "a pr&amp;aacute;tica &amp;eacute;, em &amp;uacute;ltima inst&amp;acirc;ncia, quem faz e refaz a teoria"[4]. Essa afirma&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; um exemplo de admiss&amp;atilde;o da rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o teoria-pr&amp;aacute;tica, explicitando que a interdepend&amp;ecirc;ncia permite um maior apuramento de ambas. &amp;Eacute; o estar em relacionamento que d&amp;aacute; o car&amp;aacute;ter din&amp;acirc;mico da transforma&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o tanto da teoria quanto da pr&amp;aacute;tica. Consider&amp;aacute;-las independentes &amp;eacute; releg&amp;aacute;-las ao estatismo, in&amp;eacute;rcia, imobilismo.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;A teoria &amp;eacute; feita de conceitos, que s&amp;atilde;o abstra&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es da realidade. Assim como foi comparado com o farol de um carro, podemos entender as abstra&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es como caminhos do pensamento que nos aproximam das dimens&amp;otilde;es do real. Como disse Luis Boada, "a compreens&amp;atilde;o que possamos ter da situa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o concreta ser&amp;aacute; maior se formos capazes de nos aproximar da realidade manifestada atrav&amp;eacute;s daquele conceito abstrato"[5]. Quanto maior for o grau de concretude do pensamento, menor ser&amp;aacute; a compreens&amp;atilde;o da realidade. Isso porque h&amp;aacute; uma tend&amp;ecirc;ncia em atribuirmos propriedades de partes de uma realidade que experienciamos &amp;agrave; totalidade dessa realidade. Assim, por exemplo, se algum indiv&amp;iacute;duo n&amp;atilde;o possui a capacidade de abstra&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o (ou te&amp;oacute;rica), algumas experi&amp;ecirc;ncias desagrad&amp;aacute;veis com algumas mulheres tender&amp;atilde;o a ser julgadas por ele como uma caracter&amp;iacute;stica de toda uma categoria humana denominada mulher.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Com toda essa exposi&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, queremos deixar claro que n&amp;atilde;o podemos pensar se devemos privilegiar ou a pr&amp;aacute;tica ou a teoria. Devemos privilegiar a teoria e a pr&amp;aacute;tica. &amp;Eacute; uma rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o includente e n&amp;atilde;o excludente. O aluno deve ser alfabetizado, seja em economia, engenharia ou qualquer outra &amp;aacute;rea do conhecimento, para ler o mundo e n&amp;atilde;o apenas as palavras. Uma educa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o que privilegia preponderadamente a t&amp;eacute;cnica (ou a famigerada "pr&amp;aacute;tica") &amp;eacute; uma alfabetiza&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o reduzida e mec&amp;acirc;nica da exist&amp;ecirc;ncia. Abstrair n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; fugir da realidade, mas nela se inserir. &amp;Eacute; compreender o nosso ao redor. E apenas transformamos algo se o compreendemos. Portanto, acredito que o embate entre teoria-pr&amp;aacute;tica esconde algo mais profundo: se desejamos ou n&amp;atilde;o transformar o mundo. Se desejamos educar pessoas para a autonomia ou automatonomia[6]. Se desejamos repetidores ou criadores. Se todo o ponto de vista &amp;eacute; a vista situada em um ponto, olhando por esse &amp;acirc;ngulo, podemos perceber a fal&amp;aacute;cia que &amp;eacute; separar e diferenciar o status entre a pr&amp;aacute;tica e a teoria. N&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; l&amp;oacute;gico, mas ideol&amp;oacute;gico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        [1] Professor do curso de Economia da Universidade do Extremo Sul Catarinense &amp;#8211; Unesc (Crici&amp;uacute;ma-SC).&lt;br /&gt;        [2] FREIRE, Paulo. Educa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o como pr&amp;aacute;tica da liberdade. Rio de Janeiro : Paz e Terra, 1999.&lt;br /&gt;        [3] (Id., ibidem)&lt;br /&gt;        [4] BETTO, Frei. O poder da imagina&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o. In: Boada, Luis. Uma economia po&amp;eacute;tica. S&amp;atilde;o Paulo : Brasiliense, 1987.&lt;br /&gt;        [5] BOADA, Luis. Uma economia po&amp;eacute;tica. S&amp;atilde;o Paulo : Brasiliense, 1987, p.17.&lt;br /&gt;        [6] Neologismo formado pelas palavras aut&amp;ocirc;mato (maquinismo que se p&amp;otilde;e em movimento por meios mec&amp;acirc;nicos) e nomos (lei, regra norma), ou seja, capacidade de apenas se comportar mecanicamente, automaticamente, provinda de leis mec&amp;acirc;nicas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.espacoacademico.com.br/007/07mauricio.htm"&gt;http://www.espacoacademico.com.br/007/07mauricio.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110918086012528118?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110918086012528118/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110918086012528118' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110918086012528118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110918086012528118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/e-falando-em-dicotomia.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110918054799445854</id><published>2005-02-23T14:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T14:42:27.993-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Canoniza&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o da Democracia&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vatican, Apr. 26, 2004 (CWNews.com) - &lt;i&gt;Unless it is constructed on an ethical basis, democracy is likely to undergo erosion, and eventually to disappear&lt;/i&gt;," Pope John Paul II warned a group of Italian visitors on April 26.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;Democracia sin valores se convierte en totalitarismo: Papa &lt;/b&gt;	&lt;br /&gt;por: Agencia&lt;br /&gt;Fuente: NOTIMEX&lt;br /&gt;La acci&amp;oacute;n gubernamental tiene que estar por encima del inter&amp;eacute;s particular, dice al recibir al embajador de Paraguay ante el Vati&lt;br /&gt;CIUDAD DEL VATICANO, Vaticano, dic. 9, 2003.- Una democracia sin valores se convierte con facilidad en un totalitarismo visible o encubierto, afirm&amp;oacute; este martes el Papa Juan Pablo II al recibir al nuevo embajador de Paraguay ante El Vaticano, Marcos Mart&amp;iacute;nez Mendieta.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Permissividade"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas um outro totalitarismo amea&amp;ccedil;aria a Humanidade: o "antievangelho" --que se disfar&amp;ccedil;a, segundo o papa, de democracia.&lt;br /&gt;Ele acusa a sociedade contempor&amp;acirc;nea ocidental de propagar a id&amp;eacute;ia de que &amp;eacute; preciso viver como se Deus n&amp;atilde;o existisse.&lt;br /&gt;No entanto, assim, as pessoas perderiam as coordenadas sobre o bem e o mal, de acordo com o papa.&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;atilde;o essas correntes que difundem, na opini&amp;atilde;o de Jo&amp;atilde;o Paulo 2&amp;ordm;, a permissividade moral que amea&amp;ccedil;a a fam&amp;iacute;lia com o div&amp;oacute;rcio, o amor livre, o aborto, a eutan&amp;aacute;sia, a manipula&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o gen&amp;eacute;tica e o casamento de homossexuais. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;in&lt;/i&gt; 'Papa compara legaliza&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o do aborto a apoio ao nazismo', ASSIMINA VLAHOU, da BBC Brasil, em Roma)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje li essa not&amp;iacute;cia sobre o novo livro do Papa, "Mem&amp;oacute;ria e Identidade", em que, segundo o autor do artigo, ele adverte quanto a "Canoniza&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o da Democracia". No artigo, h&amp;aacute; trechos do livro que ilustram a interpreta&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o do jornalista.&lt;br /&gt;Resolvi escrever esse post para ver de que lado estou. Escolhi esses tr&amp;ecirc;s trechos de tr&amp;ecirc;s diferentes fontes, cada um relacionando o Papa e a Democracia. O Primeiro &amp;eacute; tendencioso por ser de um site de not&amp;iacute;cias cat&amp;oacute;lico (Catholic World News); o segundo &amp;eacute; mais imparcial e o terceiro, tendencioso de modo a valorizar o pensamento laico.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto que religi&amp;atilde;o n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; s&amp;oacute; aquele conjunto de dogmas, mitologia e f&amp;eacute;, com sede central, l&amp;iacute;der e seguidores. Sinto que religi&amp;atilde;o, &amp;eacute;, primariamente, o conjunto de dogmas pessoas que criam um padr&amp;atilde;o para a vida de cada um: leis pr&amp;oacute;prias, regras particulares para se entender o mundo. Ter uma opini&amp;atilde;o formada, e, al&amp;eacute;m disso, um f&amp;eacute; nessa opini&amp;atilde;o, &amp;eacute; essencial para a base de um indiv&amp;iacute;duo. A religi&amp;atilde;o de cada um &amp;eacute;, para mim, o filtro que usamos para enchergar o mundo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Se n&amp;atilde;o for constru&amp;iacute;da sobre uma base &amp;eacute;tica, a democracia &amp;eacute; fadada &amp;agrave; eros&amp;atilde;o, terminando por desaparecer" ; &lt;br /&gt;"Democracia sem valores se converte em totalitarismo" ; &lt;br /&gt;"Mas um outro totalitarismo amea&amp;ccedil;aria a humanidade: o "antievang&amp;eacute;lio" --que se disfar&amp;ccedil;a, segundo o papa, de democracia."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Percebi que a escolha das palavras muda muito a vis&amp;atilde;o que se tem de uma pessoa, ou, no caso, de uma institui&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o personificada, o Papa. Enquanto as duas primeiras not&amp;iacute;cias d&amp;atilde;o vas&amp;atilde;o &amp;agrave; mensagem - bastante &amp;oacute;bvia, para mim, mas que dita pelo Papa soa como serm&amp;atilde;o patriarcal - a terceira converte as id&amp;eacute;ias a um n&amp;iacute;vel sensacionalista e de radicalismo religioso. Para onde foi a mensagem? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Papa n&amp;atilde;o fala s&amp;oacute; aos cat&amp;oacute;licos, fala ao mundo. Ele sabe muito bem que o mundo &amp;eacute; bem mais amplo que o mundo cat&amp;oacute;lico, diferente de seus antecessores. Mesmo assim, a posi&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o de pont&amp;iacute;cife n&amp;atilde;o permite uma grande flexibilidade de id&amp;eacute;ias. Os dogmas da igreja batem de frente com os temas controversos atuais. Mesmo assim, os mesmos dogmas reconhecem a fraqueza do homem e n&amp;atilde;o exigem perfei&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o - apenas que se saiba o certo e o errado. Diferente da cultura de massa, vol&amp;uacute;vel e dada a objetivos inating&amp;iacute;veis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida de uma mission&amp;aacute;ria americana vale 50 mil reais; a de um l&amp;iacute;der sem-terra, 5 mil. A satisfa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o de se achar sempre certo e acima de outros vale a humilha&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o de algu&amp;eacute;m; O amor livre mas sem profundidade e a fam&amp;iacute;lia a qualquer custo, mesmo que seja o da farsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banalizamos a dicotomia "bem e mal", transformando-a em sin&amp;ocirc;nimo de "n&amp;oacute;s e eles".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ser humano pega sua realidade, transforma-a em f&amp;ocirc;rma, joga-a contra a id&amp;eacute;ia do 'pr&amp;oacute;ximo' : obviamente ela n&amp;atilde;o se encaixa e peda&amp;ccedil;os ficam de fora. Essas rebarbas s&amp;atilde;o classificadas de "desvios". &amp;Eacute; seguindo cegamente esses princ&amp;iacute;pios que o 'pr&amp;oacute;ximo' vira o 'completamente distante'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110918054799445854?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110918054799445854/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110918054799445854' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110918054799445854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110918054799445854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/canonizaximo-vira-o-completamente.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110882101241582185</id><published>2005-02-19T11:50:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T11:50:12.416-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Honestidade Zero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Arial" size=2&gt;Os homens querem romance s&amp;oacute; com algumas mulheres, e sexo querem com todas. As mulheres pretendem romance com todos. Sexo s&amp;oacute; com alguns. Os homens prometem romance, para obterem sexo. Obtido o sexo, n&amp;atilde;o cumprem com o romance. As mulheres prometem sexo, para obterem romance. As mulheres fazem-se caras quando os homens lhes prop&amp;otilde;em romance, porque desconfiam das suas verdadeiras inten&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es (o que eles querem &amp;eacute; sexo). Os homens retraem-se quando as mulheres lhes oferecem sexo, porque suspeitam que elas n&amp;atilde;o est&amp;atilde;o a ser s&amp;eacute;rias: nada mais querem do que romance. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(recebi por e-mail)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110882101241582185?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110882101241582185/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110882101241582185' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110882101241582185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110882101241582185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/honestidade-zero-os-homens-querem.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110849697337368988</id><published>2005-02-15T17:49:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T17:55:35.013-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Muitos testes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/truly-dippy/1061401756_topdreams2.jpg"border="0" alt="Morpheus"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Morpheus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/truly-dippy/quizzes/%3F%3F%20Which%20Of%20The%20Greek%20Gods%20Are%20You%20%3F%3F/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/truly-dippy/1061731562_topBritain.jpg" border="0" alt="British"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Britain&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/truly-dippy/quizzes/%3F%3F%20Which%20Country%20Are%20You%20From%20%3F%3F/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;?? Which Country Are You From??&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/U/ukcrazy/1048561462_resengland.gif" border="0" alt=" Eangland"&gt;&lt;br&gt; huh? huh? do ya?realy!!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/ukcrazy/quizzes/%20what%20country%20truley%20should%20you%20live%20in%3F%3F/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt; what country truley should you livein??&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Esses dois a&amp;iacute; eu vou mandar pro British Council. Quero ver n&amp;atilde;o me darem uma bolsa integral.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/S/SilveRShadoW/1041016069_stianBale3.jpg" border="0" alt="Your true lover should be Christian Bale! Coming from Wales, he's funny and nice and he even looks good! He's talented and he loves animals. You're lucky, 'cos he's a great guy and Wale"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yourtrue lover should be Christian Bale! Coming&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fromWales, he's funny and nice and he even&lt;br&gt;looks good!He's talented and he loves animals.&lt;br&gt;You're lucky,'cos he's a great guy and Wales&lt;br&gt;is amazing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/SilveRShadoW/quizzes/Which%20guy%20from%20which%20country%20should%20be%20your%20lover%3F/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which guy from which country should be your lover?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Poxa e eu esse tempo todo chamando ele de Psicopata Americano. Olha como sou sortuda, al&amp;eacute;m de Gal&amp;ecirc;s ele ama os animais. Eu resolvi fazer de novo:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/S/SilveRShadoW/1041016714_izJudeLaw3.jpg" border="0" alt="Your true lover should be Jude Law! A true and handsome Brit, he's loyal and true and loves his job as an actor. You can call yourself lucky- England is amazing and beautiful! And so "&gt;&lt;br&gt;Your true lover should be Jude Law! A true and&lt;br&gt;handsome Brit, he's loyal and true and loves&lt;br&gt;his job as an actor. You can call yourself&lt;br&gt;lucky- England is amazing and beautiful! And so&lt;br&gt;is Jude...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/SilveRShadoW/quizzes/Which%20guy%20from%20which%20country%20should%20be%20your%20lover%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which guy from which country should be your lover?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pwahaha legal.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/thisisjustme/1043190755_ndiritalia.JPG" border="0" alt="You're Italian. You're a real charmer and people always are drawn to you. No wonder you're popular."&gt;&lt;br&gt;Congratulations. You're an Italian.&lt;br /&gt;You're a real&lt;br&gt;flirt, a peacemaker and handsome.&lt;br /&gt;When you're&lt;br&gt;happy you're really happy but when&lt;br /&gt;you're angry&lt;br&gt;you're really angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/thisisjustme/quizzes/Which%20country%20are%20you%20supposed%20to%20be%20from%3F/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which country are you supposed to be from?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;Eacute;, n&amp;atilde;o posso negar.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/Q/QuestiontotheWorld/1081907332_scleopatra.jpg"border="0" alt="Cleopatra, Daughter of the Nile"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are Cleopatra of the Nile.  The&lt;br /&gt;great&lt;br&gt;biographer of the time, Plutarch, wrote of&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cleopatra, 'Her actual beauty, it is said, was&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not in itself so remarkable that none could be&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;compared with her, or that no one could see her&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without being struck by it, but the contact of&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;her presence, if you lived with her,was&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;irresistible . . . It was a pleasure merely to&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hear the sound of her voice, with which,like&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an instrument of many strings, she could pass&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from one language to another . . .'  You havea&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spark in you that draws other people to you.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, you are drawn to others because you are&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always curious.  People can talk to you; and&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you have a passion in life to know, live, love,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and learn.  Please rate my quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/QuestiontotheWorld/quizzes/What%20famous%20female%20ruler%20are%20you%3F%20(written%20for%20the%20girls)%20NOW%0WITH%20PICS!!!/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;What famous female ruler are you?(written for the girls) NOW WITH PICS!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eu fiquei com pena do please rate my quiz, mas n&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o ratei.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven is sometimes considered as a mysticaland&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;magical number because of the biblical seven&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;days of creation, and the seven heavenly bodies&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of ancient astronomy (i.e. The Sun,Moon,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn, and Jupiter; they&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hadn't seen the others yet).  You are&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;understanding, perceptive and bright, and enjoy&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hard work and challenges.  You are often&lt;br&gt;serious, scholarly, and interested in all&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things mysterious.  Originality and imagination&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are more important to you than money and&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;material possessions.  However, you can also be&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pessimistic, sarcastic, and insecure. Please&lt;br&gt;rate my quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/QuestiontotheWorld/quizzes/What%20does%20your%20name%20and%20arithmacy%20say%20about%20you%3F%20(some%20simple%20knowledge%20of%20adding%20is%20required%20on%20your%20part)/"&gt;What does your name and arithmacy say about you? (some simple knowledge of adding is required on your part)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caraca, ficou certinho 0_0&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are from the Renaissance time period.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Renaissance' means 'rebirth' in french though&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you might not have been reborn, you look for&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new and exciting things.  You appreciate the&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arts.  You sometimes spend too much time on&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;material things, but usually work hard for it&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and deserve it.  You 'see the big picture'.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes oyu are little confused, though,&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because so many new things are coming your way&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you don't want to deal with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/QuestiontotheWorld/quizzes/Which%20Era%20do%20you%20belong%20to%3F/"&gt;Which&lt;br /&gt;Era do you belong to?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110849697337368988?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110849697337368988/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110849697337368988' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110849697337368988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110849697337368988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/muitos-testes-morpheus-which-of-greek.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110846953081669838</id><published>2005-02-15T10:10:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-02-15T10:12:10.816-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/T/truly-dippy/1061401756_topdreams2.jpg" border="0" alt="Morpheus"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Morpheus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/truly-dippy/quizzes/%3F%3F%20Which%20Of%20The%20Greek%20Gods%20Are%20You%20%3F%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ??&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110846953081669838?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110846953081669838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110846953081669838' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110846953081669838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110846953081669838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/morpheus-which-of-greek-gods-are-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110840217979385064</id><published>2005-02-14T15:29:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-02-14T15:29:39.793-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ora,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14/02, grande merda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110840217979385064?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110840217979385064/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110840217979385064' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110840217979385064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110840217979385064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/ora-1402-grande-merda.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110739365004299262</id><published>2005-02-02T23:20:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-02-02T23:20:50.043-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Teste&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=400  border=1 bordercolor=black cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are 28 Years Old&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align=center bgcolor=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;font color="#0000CC" size="+6"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  28  &lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatagequiz/"&gt;What Age Do You Act?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110739365004299262?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110739365004299262/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110739365004299262' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110739365004299262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110739365004299262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/02/teste-you-are-28-years-old-28-under-12.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110712970312099316</id><published>2005-01-30T22:01:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T22:01:43.120-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;:(&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ora...&lt;br /&gt;algo que ocorria desde setembro escafedeu-se como se nunca tivesse acontecido.&lt;br /&gt;E come&amp;ccedil;o a  achar que imaginei tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E o vazio que existia antes agora parece maior, apesar de ser do mesmo tamanho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110712970312099316?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110712970312099316/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110712970312099316' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110712970312099316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110712970312099316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/ora.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110711107246558586</id><published>2005-01-30T16:51:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T16:51:12.466-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Timor Leste&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha m&amp;atilde;e fez, em 2003, uma viagem de um m&amp;ecirc;s para o Timor Leste, pa&amp;iacute;s cuja independ&amp;ecirc;ncia &amp;eacute; relativamente recente. Eu participei muito dessa viagem, apesar de n&amp;atilde;o ter ido. Resolvi os problemas de contas aqui de casa, contactei a funcion&amp;aacute;ria da ONU respons&amp;aacute;vel pelo programa que pagou pela ida da minha m&amp;atilde;e para l&amp;aacute;, traduzi os relat&amp;oacute;rios da minha m&amp;atilde;e para o ingl&amp;ecirc;s, fiquei encarregada de mandar not&amp;iacute;cias dela para  a fam&amp;iacute;lia, parar&amp;aacute;, parar&amp;aacute;...&lt;br /&gt;Pois s&amp;aacute;bado foi um dia bem emocionante para mim, j&amp;aacute; que tive a oportunidade de passar a manh&amp;atilde; com duas deputadas timorenses da delega&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o que veio para um encontro de pa&amp;iacute;ses lus&amp;oacute;fonos (que falam o portugu&amp;ecirc;s). Conheci tamb&amp;eacute;m um homem chamado "Ulu-olo", nome recorrente nos relat&amp;oacute;rios que li, reli, traduzi e diagramei. Eu n&amp;atilde;o sei pq, naquelas pessoas t&amp;atilde;o humildes,  eu via pessoas t&amp;atilde;o grandes.&lt;br /&gt;Eles t&amp;ecirc;m muita coragem. N&amp;atilde;o conhe&amp;ccedil;o ind&amp;oacute;n&amp;eacute;sios, s&amp;oacute; o casal dono de um restaurante daqui, que por sinal s&amp;atilde;o gente fin&amp;iacute;ssima e n&amp;atilde;o gostam de timorenses. Os relatos da ONU e dos brasileiros que foram para o Timor n&amp;atilde;o fazem uma boa imagem dos Indon&amp;eacute;sios. Eu n&amp;atilde;o sei. Mas sei tamb&amp;eacute;m que ningu&amp;eacute;m &amp;eacute; santo. &lt;br /&gt;Os timorenses se apoiaram na heran&amp;ccedil;a portuguesa como um modo de conseguir se desligar do poder central Indon&amp;eacute;sio. Foram anos de uma guerra sang&amp;uuml;in&amp;aacute;ria. N&amp;atilde;o gosto de entrar em detalhes, at&amp;eacute; pq n&amp;atilde;o sei muito disso.&lt;br /&gt;O que sei &amp;eacute; que, ao perder a guerra, a Indon&amp;eacute;sia retirou as tropas do territ&amp;oacute;rio Timorense como quem raspa o fundo de uma panela. N&amp;atilde;o sobrou nada. Queimaram, pilharam, mataram e estupraram o que viam pela frente. Ulu-olo se escondeu, assim como, creio eu, a maioria dos deputados que conheci no s&amp;aacute;bado, nas montanhas. Ele disse a minha m&amp;atilde;e que, enquanto se escondia, esperava ansiosamente a chegada das 5 horas da tarde, quando podia ouvir pelo r&amp;aacute;dio os sons do Brasil. &lt;br /&gt;Quando minha m&amp;atilde;e foi para l&amp;aacute;, se assustou ao ir &amp;agrave; um supermercado e ouvir "Leandro" cantando pelos auto-falantes. &lt;br /&gt;Mas a maioria da popula&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o fala o Tetum ou o Bahasa, l&amp;iacute;nguas local e indon&amp;eacute;sia, respectivamente. Uma das deputadas que levamos para fazer compras no Conjunto Nacional me disse que s&amp;oacute; aprendeu portugu&amp;ecirc;s em 2000. Seu nome &amp;eacute; Adaljisa. Harold, outro deputado, tinha elogiado o portugu&amp;ecirc;s dela na minha frente. Os dois pareciam orgulhosos do fato. Adaljisa olhou para o horizonte inexistente do shopping e me disse que antes s&amp;oacute; falava Tetum, Bahasa e Ingl&amp;ecirc;s. &lt;br /&gt;A sociedade Timorense &amp;eacute; um pouco complexa, o pouco que eu sei j&amp;aacute; considero bem complexo. Mas o que eu entendi foi que eles se agarraram na heran&amp;ccedil;a portuguesa para se salvar, para ter quem os defendesse, quem se responsabilizasse por eles. Ao mesmo tempo, n&amp;atilde;o os vejo preenchendo confortavelmente o papel de v&amp;iacute;timas. &lt;br /&gt;Adaljisa &amp;eacute; uma mulher normal, passaria por brasileira tranq&amp;uuml;ilamente, ali&amp;aacute;s, Lourdes tamb&amp;eacute;m. Achei engra&amp;ccedil;ado Lourdes, que fala portugu&amp;ecirc;s de portugal t&amp;atilde;o fluentemente, ser bem mais dura que Adaljisa, que era muito falante.&lt;br /&gt;Passeamos pela SQS 114, onde minha m&amp;atilde;e morou nos anos 70, e explicamos um pouco da vida em Bras&amp;iacute;lia. Ao passar por uma comercial, minha m&amp;atilde;e sinalizou a quantidade de sal&amp;otilde;es de beleza, dizendo que "Brasilienses s&amp;atilde;o muito vaidosas", ao que Adaljisa respondeu, "Mas nem precisa, mulheres brasileiras s&amp;atilde;o t&amp;atilde;o bonitas, t&amp;atilde;o sexies!" &lt;br /&gt;Eu e minha m&amp;atilde;e achamos gra&amp;ccedil;a, Adaljisa falava com toda a sinceridade. Lembrei da suposta campanha da Britney Spears e Christina Aguilera para mandar cosm&amp;eacute;ticos &amp;agrave;s mulheres vitimas do Tsunami. &lt;br /&gt;Mas sei que os timorenses est&amp;atilde;o prontos para dar a volta por cima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tinha escrito mais, mas acabei deletando sem querer...que coisa.&lt;br /&gt;Outro dia pego inspira&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o pra escrever mais sobre esse s&amp;aacute;bado.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110711107246558586?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110711107246558586/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110711107246558586' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110711107246558586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110711107246558586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/timor-leste-minha-mbado.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110711083193660430</id><published>2005-01-30T16:47:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T16:49:22.876-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Tem gente que &amp;eacute; geek&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...e se aceita, por&amp;eacute;m sabe que isso n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; o bastante para se livrar dos revezes da pr&amp;oacute;pria condi&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o. Ainda acho que a melhor maneira de ser voc&amp;ecirc; mesmo &amp;eacute; rir de si mesmo e compartilhar com pessoas t&amp;atilde;o geeks quanto voc&amp;ecirc;s - j&amp;aacute; que fazer o mesmo com pessoas melhores que vc incute em "suic&amp;iacute;dio social". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois Maria Schneider, escritora da equipe do &lt;a href="http://www.theonion.com"&gt;The Onion&lt;/a&gt; (ah fala s&amp;eacute;rio que vc n&amp;atilde;o conhece!), junto com sua amiga Shannon Manning, dirigem um site chamado "&lt;a href="http://patheticgeekstories.com/"&gt;Pathetic Geek Stories&lt;/a&gt;", com tirinhas baseadas em relatos de leitores. Eu me identifiquei em altas. Parece at&amp;eacute; grupo de apoio para Geeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riam comigo, n&amp;atilde;o riam de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, segundo Maria, nenhuma hist&amp;oacute;ria &amp;eacute; retrato da vida pessoal dela.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110711083193660430?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110711083193660430/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110711083193660430' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110711083193660430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110711083193660430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/timor-leste-minha-ma-mas-riu.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110710797013133453</id><published>2005-01-30T15:59:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-30T16:00:28.126-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Para algu&amp;eacute;m que n&amp;atilde;o sabe&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o sou da sua rua&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o sou o seu vizinho&lt;br /&gt;Eu moro muito longe, sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Estou aqui de passagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o sou da sua rua&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o falo a sua l&amp;iacute;ngua&lt;br /&gt;Minha vida &amp;eacute; diferente da sua&lt;br /&gt;Estou aqui de passagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse mundo n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; meu&lt;br /&gt;Esse mundo n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; seu*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez as coisas pudessem ser diferentes, mas no momento n&amp;atilde;o s&amp;atilde;o, eu sinto sua falta mas fazer o qu&amp;ecirc;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*m&amp;uacute;sica  do Branco Melo e Arnaldo Antunes*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110710797013133453?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110710797013133453/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110710797013133453' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110710797013133453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110710797013133453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/para-algusica-do-branco-melo-e-arnaldo.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110693542023843938</id><published>2005-01-28T16:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-28T22:04:36.580-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cabra-cega&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minha amada revista Zero morreu.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonhava um dia ficar famosa e fazer um cabra-cega. At&amp;eacute; meu primo fez! &lt;br /&gt;Cabra-cega era uma sess&amp;atilde;o especial onde eles convidavam uns artistas pra escutar uns discos e tentar adivinhar o que era.&lt;br /&gt;Tamb&amp;eacute;m sonhava em ser entrevistada pra sess&amp;atilde;o "Eu recomendo". At&amp;eacute; Rouge respondeu essa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois em protesto, mesmo que eu n&amp;atilde;o seja famosa e que ningu&amp;eacute;m se interesse pelas minhas respostas, vou fazer uma sess&amp;atilde;o "Eu recomendo".&lt;br /&gt;Vejam bem, as perguntas s&amp;atilde;o todas te&amp;oacute;ricas e hipot&amp;eacute;ticas, e do mesmo modo as respostas s&amp;atilde;o baseadas em impulsos moment&amp;acirc;neos e condicionadas pelas coisas que eu ando ouvindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PARA OUVIR NO VER&amp;Atilde;O&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aquamosh do Plastilina Mosh&lt;br /&gt;*mexicanos doidinhos*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ac&amp;uacute;stico Jorge Ben Jor&lt;br /&gt;Ac&amp;uacute;stico Gilberto Gil&lt;br /&gt;*eu poso de mau, mas n&amp;atilde;o consigo me controlar e sempre saio cantando junto as m&amp;uacute;sicas*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PARA OUVIR DIRIGINDO&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muzai Moratoriamu, Shiina Ringo&lt;br /&gt;*tem a maioria das m&amp;uacute;sicas dela que eu gosto*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serie 2000, dos Los Aterciopelados&lt;br /&gt;*Colet&amp;acirc;nea mas tudo bem*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I am, Melissa Etheridge&lt;br /&gt;*Eu sei que ela &amp;eacute; e eu n&amp;atilde;o sou, mais ainda acho o m&amp;aacute;ximo*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viva El Amor!, do Pretenders&lt;br /&gt;*Ela acertou em cheio nesse*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyronossaurus Hives e Veni Vini Vicious, do The Hives&lt;br /&gt;*principalmente a bateria nervosinha*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PARA TRANSAR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice in Chains Unplugged&lt;br /&gt;*que coisa mais doentia, hein*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PARA OUVIR CHAPADA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop Making Sense, Talking Heads&lt;br /&gt;*ainda acho que n&amp;atilde;o tem coisa mais chapada que o David Byrne, s&amp;oacute; o Tom Z&amp;eacute;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o Zumbi, da Na&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o Zumbi&lt;br /&gt;*J&amp;aacute; parece chapado*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO QUE GOSTA MAS N&amp;Atilde;O CONTA PRA NINGU&amp;Eacute;M&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os Tribalistas, dos Tribalistas&lt;br /&gt;*ai que vergonha* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PRA OUVIR NUMA FORTE DEPR&amp;Ecirc;, &amp;Aacute;S CINCO DA MANH&amp;Atilde;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adventure do Furslide&lt;br /&gt;*Pra ouvir feliz tamb&amp;eacute;m serve*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming Up, do Suede&lt;br /&gt;*autom&amp;aacute;tico*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ep do The Quick&lt;br /&gt;* que eu n&amp;atilde;o tenho, mas baixei da internet e mesmo assim &amp;eacute; perfeito*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Hardcore, Pulp&lt;br /&gt;Ok Computer, Radiohead&lt;br /&gt;*pelas mesmas raz&amp;otilde;es*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO QUE VOC&amp;Ecirc; SALVARIA DA SUA CASA PEGANDO FOGO&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu Box "The airoplane flyes high, turns left looks right" do Smashing Pumpkins. &lt;br /&gt;*Nem ou&amp;ccedil;o tanto mas me traz altas lembran&amp;ccedil;as"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jazz 'round midnight, Ella Fitzgerald&lt;br /&gt;Time out, The Dave Brubeck Quartet&lt;br /&gt;*Sentimental Reasons*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO QUE MAIS ODEIA&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qualquer coisa do Engenheiro do Havaii&lt;br /&gt;*&amp;eacute; patol&amp;oacute;gico*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PRA INSPIRAR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apocalyptica Plays Metallica By Four Cellos, Apocalyptica&lt;br /&gt;*&amp;Eacute; metal mas &amp;eacute; suave =P*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;DISCO PARA TODOS OS MOMENTOS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singles - Travis&lt;br /&gt;*uma gracinha =P*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hum, essas escolhas foram  bem sinceras, apesar de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110693542023843938?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110693542023843938/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110693542023843938' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110693542023843938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110693542023843938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/cabra-cega-minha-amada-revista-zero.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110649670091655286</id><published>2005-01-23T14:09:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T14:11:40.916-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pois Pois&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é que a mocinha está feliz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sei pq, mas tb não sei pq ficar triste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110649670091655286?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110649670091655286/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110649670091655286' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110649670091655286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110649670091655286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/pois-pois-no-que-mocinha-est-feliz-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110644243457818745</id><published>2005-01-22T23:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T23:07:14.580-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Se cuida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se cuida&lt;br /&gt;Se gosta&lt;br /&gt;Se ama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual o egocentrismo&lt;br /&gt;Exigir que te amem&lt;br /&gt;Ou se amar sem se exigir?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É, eu podia fingir que existe culpado, mas não tem. Não tem remorso também. É bom ser amada, mas quando a coisa é imaginada, bem, isso não tapa buraco nenhum. &lt;br /&gt;Não é fugir, é encontrar o que se tem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110644243457818745?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110644243457818745/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110644243457818745' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110644243457818745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110644243457818745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/se-cuida-se-cuida-se-gosta-se-ama-qual.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110640058656994027</id><published>2005-01-22T11:25:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T11:29:46.570-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Tem coisas que eu não posso evitar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tem horas que a vida nos dá um caminho e um horizonte escuro.&lt;br /&gt;Aí você pensa que é melhor segurar na mão de Deus e ir.&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu vou falar uma coisa, podem me chamar de qualquer coisa, eu até aceito.&lt;br /&gt;Podem me chamar de feia, tudo bem, tb não sou nenhuma deusa, gosto não se descute.&lt;br /&gt;Podem me chamar de neurótica, tudo bem, eu sou mesmo.Apesar de médicos atestarem minha sanidade, eu sei que devo ter algum parafuso a menos.&lt;br /&gt;Podem me chamar de gorda, fortinha, fazer o quê, falem o que for.&lt;br /&gt;Mas idiota não...&lt;br /&gt;Se tem uma coisa que me dá arrepios é parecer idiota.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez pq seja a única coisa que eu realmente seja.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110640058656994027?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110640058656994027/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110640058656994027' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110640058656994027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110640058656994027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/tem-coisas-que-eu-no-posso-evitar-tem.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110623092208677877</id><published>2005-01-20T13:13:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T12:23:45.720-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;ê lezera&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;minha chefe ficou cantando uma musica da Legião hoje e acabou ficando na minha cabeça. Agora não lembro mais qual era, mas nossa, estranho como dizia bem como eu me sinto agora. Deixa eu forçar a memória um pouco...ah, lembrei:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tenho andado distraído&lt;br /&gt;Impaciente e indeciso&lt;br /&gt;E ainda estou confuso.&lt;br /&gt;Só que agora é diferente:&lt;br /&gt;Estou tão tranquilo&lt;br /&gt;E tão contente.&lt;br /&gt;Quantas chances disperdicei&lt;br /&gt;Quando o que eu mais queria&lt;br /&gt;Era provar pra todo o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não precisava&lt;br /&gt;Provar nada pra ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;Me fiz em mil pedaços&lt;br /&gt;Pra você juntar&lt;br /&gt;E queria sempre achar&lt;br /&gt;Explicação pro que eu sentia.&lt;br /&gt;Como um anjo caído&lt;br /&gt;Fiz questão de esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Que mentir pra si mesmo&lt;br /&gt;É sempre a pior mentira.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não sou mais&lt;br /&gt;Tão criança a ponto de saber&lt;br /&gt;Tudo.&lt;br /&gt;Já não me preocupo&lt;br /&gt;Se eu não sei porquê&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes o que eu penso&lt;br /&gt;Quase ninguém vê&lt;br /&gt;E eu sei que você sabe&lt;br /&gt;Quase sem querer&lt;br /&gt;Que eu vejo o mesmo que você&lt;br /&gt;Tão correto e tão bonito:&lt;br /&gt;O infinito é realmente um dos deuses mais lindos.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que às vezes uso&lt;br /&gt;Palavras repetidas&lt;br /&gt;Mas quais são as palavras&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca são ditas?&lt;br /&gt;Me disseram que você estava chorando&lt;br /&gt;E foi então que eu percebi&lt;br /&gt;Como lhe quero tanto&lt;br /&gt;Já não me preocupo&lt;br /&gt;Se eu não sei porquê&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes o que eu penso&lt;br /&gt;Quase ninguém vê&lt;br /&gt;E eu sei que você sabe&lt;br /&gt;Quase sem querer&lt;br /&gt;Que eu quero o mesmo que você"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que horrível quando cada palavra cai direitinho, e tudo tão quase sem querer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110623092208677877?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110623092208677877/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110623092208677877' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110623092208677877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110623092208677877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/lezera-minha-chefe-ficou-cantando-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110566396179596843</id><published>2005-01-13T22:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T22:52:41.796-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Quando eu fico assim&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha m&amp;atilde;e come&amp;ccedil;a a citar motivos pra que eu me anime.&lt;br /&gt;As vezes s&amp;atilde;o uns tiros cegos, tipo;&lt;br /&gt;"Mas agora eu estou com um emprego melhor, mas agora eu cortei o cabelo, mas agora eu arrumei a pia"&lt;br /&gt;Outras vezes s&amp;atilde;o coisas pequenas mas que me causam sorriso, geralmente pq eu sinto vergonha de n&amp;atilde;o sorrir, pq coisas simples s&amp;atilde;o assim f&amp;aacute;ceis de te fazer sorrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a&amp;iacute; eu fico querendo que ela me deixe sozinha, fico querendo ficar quieta. Ela diz que &amp;eacute; depress&amp;atilde;o e que n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; pra eu dormir que piora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu tenho medo de enlouquecer e fico com medo de dormir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu tenho uns sonhos estranhos e tenho medo de j&amp;aacute; estar louca e achar que n&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu s&amp;oacute; sei que a vida parece muito virtual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o parece muito virtual quando n&amp;atilde;o tem ningu&amp;eacute;m por perto, assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110566396179596843?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110566396179596843/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110566396179596843' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110566396179596843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110566396179596843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/quando-eu-fico-assim-minha-mm-por.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110566205478792677</id><published>2005-01-13T22:20:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T22:20:54.786-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Andr&amp;oacute;ide Paran&amp;oacute;ide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&amp;aacute; doendo.&lt;br /&gt;T&amp;aacute; come&amp;ccedil;ando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, pra que escrever, vai machucar mais o bra&amp;ccedil;o, ningu&amp;eacute;m vai ler e se lerem n&amp;atilde;o v&amp;atilde;o comentar e se comentarem vc n&amp;atilde;o vai gostar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&amp;aacute; cada vez mais dificil achar que isso tudo faz sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110566205478792677?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110566205478792677/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110566205478792677' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110566205478792677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110566205478792677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/andr-cada-vez-mais-dificil-achar-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110523787286777548</id><published>2005-01-09T00:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T00:33:48.140-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A Sorry Song&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got a tear hanging over&lt;br /&gt;my beer that I can't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too bad&lt;br /&gt;I feel sad&lt;br /&gt;When I got all my life behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a little relief&lt;br /&gt;From this grief&lt;br /&gt;Then&lt;br /&gt;I could find a drowning&lt;br /&gt;straw to hold on to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's great to be alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say I'm lucky to be alive&lt;br /&gt;it's hard to figure out -&lt;br /&gt;when everything I feel - hurts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Marilyn Monroe - &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, Time&lt;br /&gt;Be kind.&lt;br /&gt;Help this weary being&lt;br /&gt;To forget what is sad to remember.&lt;br /&gt;Loose my loneliness,&lt;br /&gt;Ease my mind,&lt;br /&gt;While you eat my flesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Marilyn Monroe -&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110523787286777548?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110523787286777548/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110523787286777548' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523787286777548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523787286777548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/sorry-song-ive-got-tear-hanging-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110523759945591458</id><published>2005-01-09T00:26:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T00:26:39.456-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Marilyn &amp;eacute; &amp;oacute;tima&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/gaily.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/spicy.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/marilyn.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/olivier.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/prince.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/dancer.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/pincec.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse filme &amp;eacute; fenomenal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voc&amp;ecirc;s n&amp;atilde;o acham engra&amp;ccedil;ado que a Marilyn tenha casado com Arthur Miller?&lt;br /&gt;Muita gente se perguntou na &amp;eacute;poca. &lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto que ela casava para poder ser livre.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez por isso n&amp;atilde;o desse certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez a liberdade seja mesmo intang&amp;iacute;vel.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez a vida seja essa colcha de retalhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110523759945591458?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110523759945591458/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110523759945591458' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523759945591458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523759945591458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/marilyn-vel.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110523376605735467</id><published>2005-01-08T23:22:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T23:22:46.056-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Est&amp;aacute; muito tarde&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu acho que n&amp;atilde;o vai adiantar muito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada momento que passa eu sinto&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o sirvo pra isso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se todo mundo est&amp;aacute; procurando a mesma coisa&lt;br /&gt;Ent&amp;atilde;o est&amp;aacute; todo mundo perdido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lonelier the better&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; bem melhor aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu s&amp;oacute; saio &lt;br /&gt;pq preciso do dinheiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E esse sentimento &amp;eacute; mais um papel moeda&lt;br /&gt;Vale mais alguns momentos finitos de alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu s&amp;oacute; saio&lt;br /&gt;pq preciso do dinheiro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110523376605735467?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110523376605735467/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110523376605735467' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523376605735467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110523376605735467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/est-saio-pq-preciso-do-dinheiro.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110506650335762436</id><published>2005-01-07T01:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T01:00:41.316-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Novidade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou muito feliz com acontecimentos de hoje, me empolguei muito muito e resolvi de vez enfiar o p&amp;eacute; na jaca, arrebentei com meus bra&amp;ccedil;os, mas t&amp;aacute; a&amp;iacute;.&lt;br /&gt;Percebam que eu consegui deletar todos os comments no processo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas tem o lado bom tamb&amp;eacute;m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://barufram.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/fram/post1.jpg" border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110506650335762436?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110506650335762436/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110506650335762436' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110506650335762436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110506650335762436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/novidade-eu-estou-muito-feliz-com.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110502804788813100</id><published>2005-01-06T14:14:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T14:14:07.886-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Anivers&amp;aacute;rio&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/claire1blackyellow.jpg" width="342" height="480" alt="" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parab&amp;eacute;ns mam&amp;atilde;e&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&amp;eacute; a bochechuda al&amp;iacute; atr&amp;aacute;s)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110502804788813100?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110502804788813100/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110502804788813100' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110502804788813100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110502804788813100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/aniverss.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110502790779826981</id><published>2005-01-06T14:11:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-06T14:11:47.796-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Closure&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://baru.estudioimago.com/mana.jpg" width="212" height="125" alt="" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora ela est&amp;aacute; livre!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110502790779826981?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110502790779826981/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110502790779826981' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110502790779826981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110502790779826981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/closure-e-agora-ela-est-livre.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110471369059051335</id><published>2005-01-02T22:54:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T22:54:50.590-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ano novo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei que j&amp;aacute; &amp;eacute; outro ano.&lt;br /&gt;Eu realmente gosto de fim de ano.&lt;br /&gt;Mas esse ano foi diferente. Na verdade, pra mim n&amp;atilde;o acabou. Quer dizer, acabou, eu sei, mas &amp;eacute; como se tivesse passado um m&amp;ecirc;s ou um dia. Tem nome especial mas n&amp;atilde;o d&amp;aacute; aquela euforia de renova&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o. Eu n&amp;atilde;o queria virar esse tipo de pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;Eu achava que todo mundo era igual &amp;agrave; mim, sempre achava. Se eu falasse algo e algu&amp;eacute;m n&amp;atilde;o concordava, era pq eu estava errada. Ficava muito aflita e tensa. Ser&amp;aacute; que eu estou agradando? Logo percebi que n&amp;atilde;o acertava muito. ERRADA ERRADA ERRADA. Resolvi ficar na minha. ERRADA ERRADA ERRADA. Mas pelo menos era s&amp;oacute; quando eu pegava algu&amp;eacute;m falando de mim. &lt;br /&gt;De vez em quando eu acho que d&amp;aacute; pra relaxar. A&amp;iacute; eu falo o que eu sinto. Uma vez eu conversei com uma pessoa que eu achava que era como eu - que me via como igual.&lt;br /&gt;"Sabe, vc v&amp;ecirc; as pessoas morrendo, perdendo tudo, um dia n&amp;atilde;o vai ter &amp;aacute;gua, n&amp;atilde;o vai ter nada disso que tem hoje. Eu olho &amp;agrave; minha volta, computadores, carros, roupas, tudo isso &amp;eacute; muito pouco."&lt;br /&gt;Eu ia continuar, mas ele me cortou logo:&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, vc parece aqueles pseudo-revoltados de oitava s&amp;eacute;rie, preocupados com o apocalipse..."&lt;br /&gt;Eu fiquei muito surpresa de ele n&amp;atilde;o me entender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso foi h&amp;aacute; uns 3 anos. Eu achei que ele me via como igual, mas ele n&amp;atilde;o prestou aten&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o no que eu disse.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu vejo as noticias do outro lado do mundo, penso, "eu n&amp;atilde;o sei se resistiria". Vai al&amp;eacute;m do pensar positivo. Vai al&amp;eacute;m da imagina&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o. Como imaginar perder 30 pessoas da sua fam&amp;iacute;lia sem que se tenha algu&amp;eacute;m para se culpar? Como perder seus pais ainda crian&amp;ccedil;a e ficar ao l&amp;eacute;u, na chuva, na lama, sem comer por 7 dias? Eu vi pessoas dizerem que n&amp;atilde;o acreditam em mais nada. Como dizer para algu&amp;eacute;m que passou por isso que Deus ainda a ama? Que tudo isso tem um motivo? Que a vida n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; aleat&amp;oacute;ria? De onde tirar for&amp;ccedil;a? Como esperar que elas pacientemente se organizem e n&amp;atilde;o se pisoteiem ao sinal de um caminh&amp;atilde;o de mantimentos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero viver com mais calma.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ter tempo pra ver as coisas, para sentir as coisas. Tempo mental.&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu sentir a textura de uma p&amp;eacute;tala vai durar 10 segundos, mas eu vou degustar como se fossem 10 horas.&lt;br /&gt;Os sons v&amp;atilde;o ser mais altos e claros.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou passar horas brincando com a gata.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou gostar muito de algu&amp;eacute;m e vai bastar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou ouvir algu&amp;eacute;m dar sua opini&amp;atilde;o e n&amp;atilde;o vou me preocupar com certo e errado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; nem pq eu poderia n&amp;atilde;o poder fazer essas coisas. N&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; pq eu deveria me sentir culpada de n&amp;atilde;o fazer essas coisas pq tem gente que n&amp;atilde;o pode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou fazer pq eu posso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110471369059051335?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110471369059051335/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110471369059051335' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110471369059051335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110471369059051335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/ano-novo-eu-sei-que-jo-pode.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110471014258486260</id><published>2005-01-02T21:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T21:55:42.583-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o sei explicar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;n&amp;atilde;o sei explicar&lt;br /&gt;n&amp;atilde;o sei explicar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meu pesco&amp;ccedil;o chega est&amp;aacute; estalando&lt;br /&gt;quando eu giro a cabe&amp;ccedil;a&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na verdade explicar eu sei&lt;br /&gt;eu n&amp;atilde;o consigo me convencer &lt;br /&gt;a aceitar a explica&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estou caindo aos peda&amp;ccedil;os&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;algu&amp;eacute;m me diz algo e cada s&amp;iacute;laba &amp;eacute; uma martelada&lt;br /&gt;engra&amp;ccedil;ado que ao mesmo tempo a l&amp;iacute;ngua lan&amp;ccedil;a&lt;br /&gt;a l&amp;iacute;ngua dan&amp;ccedil;a na boca&lt;br /&gt;e as palavras saem se derramando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas quando chega aqui&lt;br /&gt;tem som seco trepidante&lt;br /&gt;sai at&amp;eacute; poeira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e eu estou me despeda&amp;ccedil;ando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;na verdade explicar eu sei&lt;br /&gt;eu s&amp;oacute; n&amp;atilde;o consigo me convencer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110471014258486260?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110471014258486260/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110471014258486260' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110471014258486260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110471014258486260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/eu-no-consigo-me-convencer.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110462738288110719</id><published>2005-01-01T22:56:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T22:56:22.880-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu vou falar a verdade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tou sem &amp;acirc;nimo de fazer as coisas que eu sempre gostei de fazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse ano eu tinha muitas esperan&amp;ccedil;as, mas 2004 foi uma revolu&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o pra mim. E esse tsunami a&amp;iacute; me fez pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o tenho planos pra esse ano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou tentar n&amp;atilde;o fazer planos muito complexos daqui pra frente. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que besta, isso a&amp;iacute; pareceu um plano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, decidi que vou fazer a minha parte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem sabe algo de bom resolve aparecer pra mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110462738288110719?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110462738288110719/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110462738288110719' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110462738288110719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110462738288110719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2005/01/eu-vou-falar-verdade-tou-sem-pareceu.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110452550761694343</id><published>2004-12-31T18:38:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T18:38:27.616-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Feliz Ano novo!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fotolog n&amp;atilde;o me deixa postar de jeito nenhum, mas mesmo assim desejo tudo de bom pra todo mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110452550761694343?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110452550761694343/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110452550761694343' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110452550761694343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110452550761694343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/feliz-ano-novo-fotolog-no-me-deixa.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110445899193227513</id><published>2004-12-31T00:09:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T00:09:51.933-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I'D RATHER BE WITH YOU&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bootsy Collins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;yeah, I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you until i'm through&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes I do&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you until that day we'll fly away&lt;br /&gt;I just love that smiling face in the early sun&lt;br /&gt;If I can't have you to myself, then life's no fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;yeah, I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;I wanna hold you hand&lt;br /&gt;Oh, if I can just be your man&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be you friend&lt;br /&gt;Not now and then, but until the end&lt;br /&gt;I just love the way you act, and that's a fact&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be your number one, so picture that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the next time&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the next time&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the next time&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the next time&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;Yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you until I'm through&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes I do&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you until that day we'll fly away&lt;br /&gt;I just love that smiling face in the early sun&lt;br /&gt;If I can't have you to myself, then life's no fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be with you, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I'd rather be with you&lt;br /&gt;Oh babe&lt;br /&gt;Well, uh, you might think i'm trying to be funny&lt;br /&gt;But I'm really serious this time, baby&lt;br /&gt;(I'd rather be with you)&lt;br /&gt;Even though, uh, it's a cold world, baby&lt;br /&gt;But you know deep down inside that I do love ya&lt;br /&gt;(I'd rather be with you)&lt;br /&gt;I know I sound strange, but I really mean it&lt;br /&gt;We gonna make it this time baby&lt;br /&gt;(I'd rather be with you)&lt;br /&gt;You're the only one I really love now&lt;br /&gt;I'm coming at you with both hands tied behind my back, baby&lt;br /&gt;(I'd rather be with you, yeah)&lt;br /&gt;You got me, I'm coming at you, get ready&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna stick my love in your eye, baby&lt;br /&gt;(I'd rather be with you, yeah)&lt;br /&gt;You can see me coming baby, just coming all over you&lt;br /&gt;(yeah i'd rather be with you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baru.estudioimago.com/bootsy collins - i'd rather be with you.mp3" target="_blank"&gt;Go Bootsy Go&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110445899193227513?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110445899193227513/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110445899193227513' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110445899193227513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110445899193227513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/id-rather-be-with-you-bootsy-collins.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110392453557174919</id><published>2004-12-24T19:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T01:05:14.810-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Internet borring&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que coisa, como eu conseguia ficar tanto tempo on-line?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, tenho uma &amp;oacute;tima id&amp;eacute;ia pra (re) come&amp;ccedil;ar o FRAM, se eu disser que &amp;eacute; presente de natal fica parecendo que eu sou egoc&amp;ecirc;ntrica?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andei refletindo um pouco, cruzando dados, descobri que tenho ao mesmo tempo um imenso sentimento de superioridade que se degladia com minha inaptid&amp;atilde;o social. Ent&amp;atilde;o eu tou l&amp;aacute; me achando "a" maior, at&amp;eacute; que brota o pensamento, "ai, credo, ser&amp;aacute; que eu estou parecendo aquelas pessoas que eu odeio?". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito engra&amp;ccedil;ado eu me achar superior e inferior ao mesmo tempo. Quem olha de longe at&amp;eacute; pensa que eu sou equilibrada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Feliz Natal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J&amp;aacute; que o fotolog t&amp;aacute; de mau pq eu n&amp;atilde;o renovei o gold, eu vou postar umas fotos aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baru.estudioimago.com/lar.jpg"&gt;Adoro essa foto&lt;/a&gt;, consegui pegar o "degrad&amp;ecirc;" (rs) do c&amp;eacute;u bem a tempo. N&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; a Europa, &amp;eacute; aqui onde eu moro =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110392453557174919?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110392453557174919/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110392453557174919' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110392453557174919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110392453557174919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/internet-borring-que-coisa-como-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110384487295777857</id><published>2004-12-23T21:34:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T21:34:32.956-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Weezer Weezer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/R/ruinedpuzzle/1036882476_Aweezerdolls.jpg" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;br&gt;*Jamie*&lt;br /&gt;You are my hero...a true Weezer fan. You don't get&lt;br&gt;caught up in the nonsense. You love music and&lt;br&gt;it loves you. Just like "Jamie," you&lt;br&gt;might not always be appreciated for how&lt;br&gt;supercool you are, but it's only because not&lt;br&gt;everyone is smart enough to look for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/ruinedpuzzle/quizzes/What%20Weezer%20song%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What Weezer song are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/S/SugarBooger/1036891355_elschorcho.gif" border="0" alt="elscorcho"&gt;&lt;br&gt;*You're "El scorcho" your not to&lt;br&gt;well-known among MTV-ers but your definately a&lt;br&gt;cult classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/SugarBooger/quizzes/What%20Weezer%20Video%20Are%20You%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What Weezer Video Are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse segundo &amp;eacute; muito ruim, eu praticamente escolhi esse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/M/moocowjake/1055823617_resbrian02.jpg" border="0" alt="Brian"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Brian.Wow,have you noticed how he is one of the&lt;br&gt;least-coolest band members?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/moocowjake/quizzes/What%20Weezer%20band%20member%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What Weezer band member are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahaha, sacanagem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/W/wynd/1034460377_blue.gif" border="0" alt="The Blue Album"&gt;&lt;br&gt;The Blue Album&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/wynd/quizzes/Which%20Weezer%20album%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Weezer album are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are BLUE era, you are outgoing and funny to be&lt;br&gt;around, but you do have a sensitive side, which&lt;br&gt;means you are also very caring. Go buy the blue&lt;br&gt;album by weezer now, you'll love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/greeni/quizzes/which%20weezer%20era%20are%20you%20from/"&gt;which weezer era are you from&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to see a pattern here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/L/limey/1035238306_icturesrwa.JPG" border="0" alt="you are the RWA"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You are the RWA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/limey/quizzes/Which%20Weezer%20Message%20Board%20Elite%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Weezer Message Board Elite are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ONLY IN DREAMS is for you.&lt;br /&gt;"Only in dreams, we see what it means. Reach&lt;br&gt;out our hands, hold on to her's. But when we&lt;br&gt;wake, it's all been erased. And so it seems,&lt;br&gt;only in dreams."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/Galadrielf/quizzes/What%20Weezer%20Blue%20Album%20song%20is%20for%20you%3F/"&gt;What Weezer Blue Album song is for you?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/W/WeEzErIsTeHwInZ/1049171590_fpinkerton.jpg" border="0" alt="Pinkerton"&gt;&lt;br&gt;You should get Weezer's Pinkerton.  You must like&lt;br&gt;the straight forward messages.. if you are&lt;br&gt;angry, it's nice to just listen to some of the&lt;br&gt;songs on here and think that you're not the&lt;br&gt;only one that feels a certain way.  One of the&lt;br&gt;more hard core CDs &lt;-to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/WeEzErIsTeHwInZ/quizzes/Which%20Weezer%20Album%20Would%20You%20Like%20Most%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Weezer Album Would You Like Most?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiz outros e El Scorcho saiu umas 3 vezes...deprimente...&lt;br /&gt;Pra quem disse que n&amp;atilde;o ia postar nada at&amp;eacute; ano que vem at&amp;eacute; que eu sou bem mentirosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110384487295777857?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110384487295777857/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110384487295777857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110384487295777857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110384487295777857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/weezer-weezer-jamie-you-are-my-hero.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110376206263893747</id><published>2004-12-22T22:34:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-22T22:34:22.636-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Corra na chuva&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui dentro &amp;eacute; um sil&amp;ecirc;ncio abafado, como quando voc&amp;ecirc; est&amp;aacute; debaixo d'&amp;aacute;gua. D&amp;aacute; pra ouvir indistintos sons, palavras amorda&amp;ccedil;adas, nasaladas. E ao redor aquela falta de gravidade, o ambiente amaciando a pele, aqui parece mais solit&amp;aacute;rio do que se n&amp;atilde;o houvesse som algum.&lt;br /&gt;Eu uso meus olhos como uma c&amp;acirc;mera, olha que &amp;acirc;ngulo legal, gira assim e desfoca,  no que eu foco agora, que personagem &amp;eacute; aquele. Fingindo que aquela pessoa &amp;eacute; um anti-her&amp;oacute;i, forjando passado presente futuro, e se na vida a gente pudesse dirigir os detalhes, pregar os defeitos com pinceladas maestrais, salpicar de dia-a-dia aquilo t&amp;atilde;o saturado de fic&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;Olha, se eu piscar, &amp;eacute; um corte seco. Eu estou com sono ou estou chorando? Este &amp;eacute; um &lt;i&gt;fade&lt;/i&gt;. D&amp;aacute; pra fazer o mesmo lambuzando a lente de vaselina. Pode colocar uma meia cal&amp;ccedil;a tamb&amp;eacute;m. Dependendo do fio, as vezes a luz normal vira umas estrelhinhas. Mas &amp;eacute; tudo meio for&amp;ccedil;ado. Se voc&amp;ecirc; for&amp;ccedil;ar a barra d&amp;aacute; pra ver as estrelinhas por a&amp;iacute;.&lt;br /&gt;Ent&amp;atilde;o agora eu passo no balc&amp;atilde;o e deixo as fitas, ou ser&amp;aacute; que coloco na caixa de devolu&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o? Eles fizeram ela por algum motivo, mas tem gente a&amp;iacute;, eu podia entregar na m&amp;atilde;o deles, desejar boa noite, Ser&amp;aacute; que perceberam que eu estou diferente? "CORRA NA CHUVA!"&lt;br /&gt;H&amp;atilde;?&lt;br /&gt;Ah, era um homem falando, engra&amp;ccedil;ado, se eu fosse escrever isso n&amp;atilde;o teria o som, eu teria que dizer que era um homem, teria que dizer que ele estava absorto no v&amp;iacute;deo que passava na TV, eu fiquei tentando entender pq ele tinha dito aquilo, mas sempre parece que &amp;eacute; pra mim.&lt;br /&gt;Correr na chuva, quem correria na chuva, &amp;eacute; perigoso, vc cai, se machuca, e ningu&amp;eacute;m vai passar rem&amp;eacute;dio no seu joelho,  vai ser s&amp;oacute; vc , na chuva, machucado.&lt;br /&gt;Mas quando vc corre na chuva fica aquele misto de calor com frio, eu n&amp;atilde;o acordei nem estou dormindo, vc se esquenta e as gotas s&amp;atilde;o geladas, o ar entra mais f&amp;aacute;cil e voc&amp;ecirc; sente que podia fazer isso pra sempre. &lt;br /&gt;E nesse momento eu percebi que &amp;eacute; a harmonia perfeita.&lt;br /&gt;Por um segundo corri na chuva.&lt;br /&gt;Mas se eu n&amp;atilde;o segurar o port&amp;atilde;o a mo&amp;ccedil;a n&amp;atilde;o vai perceber que eu estou aqui nem vai agradecer, e eu preciso voltar pra casa e escrever isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110376206263893747?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110376206263893747/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110376206263893747' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110376206263893747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110376206263893747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/corra-na-chuva-aqui-dentro-o-vai.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110365273560940220</id><published>2004-12-21T16:12:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-21T16:12:15.610-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Rowling's UK publisher, Bloomsbury, said:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "We are pleased to announce that JK Rowling has completed Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince, the sixth book in the Harry Potter series, and that it has been delivered to Bloomsbury."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy oh joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110365273560940220?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110365273560940220/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110365273560940220' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110365273560940220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110365273560940220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/rowlings-uk-publisher-bloomsbury-said.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110358416691900287</id><published>2004-12-20T21:09:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-20T21:09:26.920-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ser uma pessoa meiguinha&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parte da minha lista para 2005.&lt;br /&gt;Cansei de ser amarga. Acho que vou parar um pouco de estudar tanto, ler mais, ter aulas de canto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; Let me say, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, that the true&lt;br /&gt;revolutionary is guided by great feelings of love. -Che Guevara&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110358416691900287?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110358416691900287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110358416691900287' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110358416691900287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110358416691900287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/ser-uma-pessoa-meiguinha-parte-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110341643597993101</id><published>2004-12-18T22:33:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-18T22:33:55.980-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;How stupid is it&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can&amp;rsquo;t talk about it&lt;br /&gt;I gotta sing about it&lt;br /&gt;And make a record of my heart&lt;br /&gt;How stupid is it&lt;br /&gt;Won&amp;rsquo;t you gimme a minute&lt;br /&gt;Just come up to me&lt;br /&gt;And say hello (to my heart)&lt;br /&gt;How stupid is it&lt;br /&gt;For all I know you want me too&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe you just don&amp;rsquo;t know what to do&lt;br /&gt;And maybe you&amp;rsquo;re scared to say&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;rsquo;m falling for you&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could get my head outta the sand&lt;br /&gt;&amp;rsquo;cause I think we&amp;rsquo;d make a good team&lt;br /&gt;And you would keep my fingernails clean&lt;br /&gt;But that&amp;rsquo;s just a stupid dream that I won&amp;rsquo;t realize&lt;br /&gt;&amp;rsquo;cause I can&amp;rsquo;t even look in your eyes without shakin&amp;rsquo;&lt;br /&gt;And I ain&amp;rsquo;t fakin&amp;rsquo;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Weezer &amp;eacute; muito bom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110341643597993101?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110341643597993101/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110341643597993101' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110341643597993101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110341643597993101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/how-stupid-is-it-i-can-muito-bom.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110341629437633961</id><published>2004-12-18T22:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-18T22:31:34.376-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Say it ain't so&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can&amp;rsquo;t confront you, I never could do...&lt;br /&gt;That which might hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;Try and be cool, when I say:&lt;br /&gt;This way is-a-waterslide-away-from-you-that-takes-you-futher-everyday!&lt;br /&gt;Be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110341629437633961?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110341629437633961/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110341629437633961' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110341629437633961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110341629437633961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/say-it-aint-so-i-cant-confront-you-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110315808862180838</id><published>2004-12-15T22:48:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T22:48:08.620-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Plates are broken (The Quick)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People aren't talking &lt;br /&gt;I know why&lt;br /&gt;you ain't much living before you die&lt;br /&gt;and it seems so criminal&lt;br /&gt;keeping it all down to the minimal&lt;br /&gt;I pray for myself&lt;br /&gt;'cause I don't ever wanna be that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;'till the sugar's all gone and the plates are broken&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be pushed that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For which ambition&lt;br /&gt;I never did care&lt;br /&gt;To loose my soul only just to get ahead&lt;br /&gt;Well it feels so criminal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm gonna stay right here holding out for a miracle&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray for myself&lt;br /&gt;'cause I don't ever wanna be that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;'till the sugar's all gone and the plates are broken&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be pushed that way&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;'cause it's worth it sometimes when your eyes are soaking&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;I don't ever wanna be that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I don't wanna break down&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna break down&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna break down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;'till the sugar's all gone and the plates are broken&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be pushed that way&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt;'cause it's worth it sometimes when your eyes are soaking&lt;br /&gt;oh no-no&lt;br /&gt; I don't ever wanna be that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;::  &lt;a href="http://baru.estudioimago.com/Plates_Are_Broken.mp3" target="_blank"&gt;agora cante comigo e o Royston Langdon&lt;/a&gt;::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110315808862180838?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110315808862180838/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110315808862180838' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110315808862180838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110315808862180838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/plates-are-broken-quick-people-arent.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110315664123355476</id><published>2004-12-15T22:24:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-15T22:24:01.233-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Alarme falso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/G/gerigrrl/1097972932_sDHlynette.JPG" border="0" alt="DHlynette"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Congratulations! You are Lynette Scavo, the&lt;br&gt;ex-career woman who traded the boardroom for&lt;br&gt;boredom, mixed with moments of sheer panic as&lt;br&gt;the mother of four unmanageable kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/gerigrrl/quizzes/Which%20Desperate%20Housewife%20are%20you%3F/"&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Desperate Housewife are you?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110315664123355476?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110315664123355476/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110315664123355476' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110315664123355476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110315664123355476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/alarme-falso-congratulations-you-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110244819363097705</id><published>2004-12-07T17:36:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-07T17:36:33.630-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Recesso de fim de ano&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou dar uma parada no blog pra fazer outras coisinhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At&amp;eacute; o ano que vem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: o Flog continua...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110244819363097705?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110244819363097705/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110244819363097705' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110244819363097705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110244819363097705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/recesso-de-fim-de-ano-vou-dar-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110236906380243338</id><published>2004-12-06T19:37:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T19:37:43.803-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Abesurdo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tava olhando no hist&amp;oacute;rico e esse blog t&amp;aacute; off topic h&amp;aacute; um temp&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;Acho que come&amp;ccedil;ou quando meu bra&amp;ccedil;o deu pau.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda n&amp;atilde;o estou bem, (do bra&amp;ccedil;o), mas t&amp;aacute; na hora de voltar ao topic.&lt;br /&gt;Cabe&amp;ccedil;a pra c&amp;aacute;, FRAM pra l&amp;aacute;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M&amp;aacute;goas, depr&amp;ecirc;s e n&amp;oacute;ias no lixo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110236906380243338?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110236906380243338/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110236906380243338' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110236906380243338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110236906380243338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/abesurdo-eu-tava-olhando-no-histias-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110234134587959477</id><published>2004-12-06T11:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-06T11:55:45.880-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cultura japonesa na veia&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prova, festa, comida, comida, comida, comida, comida e mais comida.&lt;br /&gt;A Rie &amp;eacute; muito legal. &lt;br /&gt;Quero ir pra Manaus...deve ser bonito l&amp;aacute;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110234134587959477?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110234134587959477/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110234134587959477' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110234134587959477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110234134587959477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/cultura-japonesa-na-veia-prova-festa.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110218747360653428</id><published>2004-12-04T17:11:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-04T17:11:13.606-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Why don't you save me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje li no jornal uma not&amp;iacute;cia sobre a &amp;uacute;nica revista voltada para o p&amp;uacute;blico gay da China.&lt;br /&gt;Tinha o Tomoya Nagase na capa! Uia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto que vou voltar com o FRAM qualquer dia desses...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo bem que o mundo nem se incomodou com a morte dele hahahaha...ah mas t&amp;aacute; dando vontade de ser boba.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110218747360653428?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110218747360653428/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110218747360653428' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110218747360653428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110218747360653428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/why-dont-you-save-me-hoje-li-no-jornal.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110212520093874554</id><published>2004-12-03T23:53:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-03T23:53:20.936-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;N&amp;atilde;o gosto de sair&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o consigo dan&amp;ccedil;ar&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto &amp;eacute; de ficar parado&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o sei o que pensar&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o  tenho o que falar&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; bem melhor ficar calado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"tudo errado", Autoramas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se conversarem comigo eu ainda consigo ser simp&amp;aacute;tica. Viu, nem tou t&amp;atilde;o mal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110212520093874554?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110212520093874554/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110212520093874554' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110212520093874554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110212520093874554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/no-mal.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110195104899002555</id><published>2004-12-01T23:30:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T23:30:48.990-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Vc sabia?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se vc digitar "cupua&amp;ccedil;u" no Google images vc v&amp;ecirc; duas fotos da &lt;a href="http://images.google.com/images?q=%22cupua%C3%A7u%22&amp;hl=en&amp;lr=&amp;start=60&amp;sa=N" target="_blank"&gt; Hiro&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali&amp;aacute;s amanh&amp;atilde; &amp;eacute; anivers&amp;aacute;rio dela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu j&amp;aacute; fiz essa coisa chorar, sabiam? Eu tinha umas id&amp;eacute;ias muito estranhas na cuca aquele dia, me sentia especialmente invis&amp;iacute;vel. Dei medo nela e choramos juntas. Eu me assustei pq n&amp;atilde;o sabia que tinha gente me vendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talvez uma das &amp;uacute;nicas vezes que eu queria voltar no tempo e apagar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se um dia vc estiver triste e a Hiro tb estiver, FUDEU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembrem-se, no dia 2/12, se n&amp;atilde;o houver c&amp;eacute;u azul sobre vc, abra um guarda-chuva azul. Respeite o CarnaHiro (piada interna...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110195104899002555?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110195104899002555/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110195104899002555' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110195104899002555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110195104899002555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/12/vc-sabia-se-vc-digitar-cupuau-azul.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110185857795890234</id><published>2004-11-30T21:49:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T21:49:37.956-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Sincera vontade&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De n&amp;atilde;o falar mais, de n&amp;atilde;o escrever mais, de n&amp;atilde;o fazer nada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110185857795890234?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110185857795890234/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110185857795890234' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110185857795890234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110185857795890234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/sincera-vontade-de-no-fazer-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110169016226783246</id><published>2004-11-28T23:02:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-30T21:48:28.750-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Acabou.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escreve bem grande num papel, espalha pelo quarto.&lt;br /&gt;Sen&amp;atilde;o vc esquece e vai ser muito triste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respira fundo. Vc queria isso mesmo...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110169016226783246?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110169016226783246/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110169016226783246' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110169016226783246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110169016226783246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/acabou.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110142409606369332</id><published>2004-11-25T21:08:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-25T21:08:16.063-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Hum...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tava fu&amp;ccedil;ando meus arquivos aqui...deu uma saudade do FRAM...ai ai...&lt;br /&gt;Vontade de ser doidinha de novo.&lt;br /&gt;Ser&amp;aacute; que eu tou sarando?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Save Me&lt;/b&gt; (Aimee Mann)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look like a perfect fit&lt;br /&gt;For a girl in need of a tourniquet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But can you save me&lt;br /&gt;Come on and save me&lt;br /&gt;If you could save me&lt;br /&gt;From the ranks of the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I can tell&lt;br /&gt;You know what it's like&lt;br /&gt;The long farewell of the hunger strike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But can you save me&lt;br /&gt;Come on and save me&lt;br /&gt;If you could save me&lt;br /&gt;From the ranks of the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You struck me dumb like radium&lt;br /&gt;Like Peter Pan or Superman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will come to save me&lt;br /&gt;C'mon and save me&lt;br /&gt;If you could save me&lt;br /&gt;From the ranks of the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;'Cept the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;But the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C'mon and save me&lt;br /&gt;Why don't you save me&lt;br /&gt;If you could save me&lt;br /&gt;From the ranks of the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except the freaks&lt;br /&gt;Who suspect they could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;Except the freaks who could never love anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110142409606369332?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110142409606369332/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110142409606369332' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110142409606369332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110142409606369332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/hum.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110133272282890664</id><published>2004-11-24T19:45:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-24T19:45:22.826-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;O poder da bolsa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bolsa tem um poder maligno.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje a chefe come&amp;ccedil;ou com um papo de que queria estar no meu testamento, pra que se eu morresse ela ficasse com a minha bolsa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E vou ganhar outra da R&amp;ecirc;! &amp;ecirc;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passei o dia com dor de cabe&amp;ccedil;a, bolha no p&amp;eacute; e um pensamento furtivo e danado de me deixar aguniada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser&amp;aacute; que &amp;eacute; tarde? Hoje &amp;eacute; anivers&amp;aacute;rio da Eri e eu at&amp;eacute; fiz um post no flog pra ela.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110133272282890664?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110133272282890664/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110133272282890664' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110133272282890664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110133272282890664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/o-poder-da-bolsa-bolsa-tem-um-poder.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110117254441237970</id><published>2004-11-22T23:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T10:40:43.483-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;DnA?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando pensando numas esses dias.&lt;br /&gt;Sabe aquela do "quem sou eu? pq estou aqui?"&lt;br /&gt;P&amp;ocirc; ningu&amp;eacute;m pensa isso? Rs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu era crian&amp;ccedil;a, lembro de voltar pra casa de noite no banco de tr&amp;aacute;s do carro (eu a era mais nova e sempre tinha que ir atr&amp;aacute;s), olhava as estrelas e o movimento da rua indo pr&amp;aacute; tr&amp;aacute;s depressa, tudo voltando, minha cabe&amp;ccedil;a indo junto, "mas pq estou aqui?", "e o que veio antes?", pensava no antes, e antes, e antes...at&amp;eacute; que n&amp;atilde;o conseguia pensar em nada anterior, nada mais original, ficava zonza e deitava, resignada, num sono-ex&amp;iacute;lio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vezes queria voltar, voltar num ponto onde eu tenha errado, onde eu errei? Quando foi que eu fiquei t&amp;atilde;o diferente de todo mundo? Quando foi que eu escolhi que o melhor era ser isso ao inv&amp;eacute;s daquilo? Entre outros pensamentos confusos concomitantes e dispens&amp;aacute;veis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eis que sinto que estou no clima pra pegar um filme cabe&amp;ccedil;a tipo Adapta&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem, o filme &amp;eacute; bem assim. O filme &amp;eacute; igual. Eu tou muito bolada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheguei no pc pra sei l&amp;aacute;, conversar, meu irm&amp;atilde;o foi dormir e a gata t&amp;aacute; ocupada tomando banho, bem, olha o e-mail que recebo da minha tia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oi Barb,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui no enterro do maravilhoso Celso Furtado. Estou mandando um trecho tirado do livro de mem&amp;oacute;rias dele "Os ares do mundo", onde ele fala sobre qdo ele estava exilado no Chile em 64.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; pra ler, viu?  ;-) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Os racioc&amp;iacute;nios que eu desenvolvia irritava muitos companheiros de ex&amp;iacute;lio. Parecia-lhes que eu fechava todas as portas para o futuro. "Se voc&amp;ecirc; est&amp;aacute; com a raz&amp;atilde;o", dizia um, " minha gera&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o j&amp;aacute; nada tem a fazer no Brasil" [..] Eu percebia nessas palavras uma cr&amp;iacute;tica velada `a maneira "fria" com que eu analisava a situa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o brasileira. Era da vida de cada um que se tratava, e n&amp;atilde;o de material de estudo. Eu reconhecia que eles tinham raz&amp;atilde;o. O primeiro desafio que enfrenta o homem - e o exilado n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; mais que um homem desvalido- &amp;eacute; o de encontrar uma justificativa para a vida, inventar todos os dias uma compensa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o para o esfor&amp;ccedil;o que significa viver. Essa compensa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o pode vir simplesmente da luz do dia, de um horizonte que se ilumina diante do caminhante que repousa &amp;agrave; beira da estrada, do espirar de algu&amp;eacute;m que dorme confiante ao seu lado. Mas tamb&amp;eacute;m pode vir do &amp;acirc;nimo de continuar uma luta para mudar a pr&amp;oacute;pria vida.  O intelectual tem de pr&amp;oacute;prio a capacidade sem limites de inventar-se raz&amp;otilde;es para viver. Se est&amp;aacute; em um pa&amp;iacute;s novo para ele, tudo lhe interessa, pois tudo encerra o segredo de outra experi&amp;ecirc;ncia de vida de homens e mulheres que n&amp;atilde;o compartilham de sua mem&amp;oacute;ria e que viram mil coisas que ele desconhece. A solid&amp;atilde;o intelectual &amp;eacute; de qualidade diferente. Raramente o domina o sentimento de inutilidade, a ang&amp;uacute;stia do n&amp;atilde;o-ser. &amp;Eacute; como se ele carregasse consigo mil quest&amp;otilde;es que esperam pela oportunidade de serem abordadas. [...]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; LINDO?  Eu acho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          Bye bye!&lt;br /&gt;                         Paula"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu ia falar mais, das coisas que essas coisas trazem, do redemo&amp;iacute;nho semi&amp;oacute;tico da minha cuca, mas cara...t&amp;aacute; tarde, hoje &amp;eacute; segunda e eu tou muito bolada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110117254441237970?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110117254441237970/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110117254441237970' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110117254441237970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110117254441237970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/dna-eu-ando-pensando-numas-esses-dias.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110103933036047203</id><published>2004-11-21T10:15:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T10:15:30.360-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;"Alou!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pai - E ent&amp;atilde;o, sexta feira &amp;eacute; um dia muito especial! O que voc&amp;ecirc; vai querer? Todo ano voc&amp;ecirc; quer uma coisinha...&lt;br /&gt;Filha - Ah, fica &amp;agrave; sua escolha...&lt;br /&gt;Pai - Olha, ainda n&amp;atilde;o posso te dar uma viagem ao Jap&amp;atilde;o, nem um Mitsubishi, mas pode falar...&lt;br /&gt;Filha - Nah, quero um Alfa Romeu [Um Juliette, convers&amp;iacute;vel, preto, coisinha vintage, muito b&amp;aacute;sica]&lt;br /&gt;Pai - AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, bem, isso n&amp;atilde;o d&amp;aacute;, mas vc sempre quer alguma coisinha, algo que vc fica o ano alimentando...&lt;br /&gt;Filha - Nah, &amp;eacute; que agora eu tenho emprego...&lt;br /&gt;Pai - AHAHAHAHAHAHA, ent&amp;atilde;o pra mim sobra o Alfa Romeo!&lt;br /&gt;FIlha - Ah, me d&amp;aacute; um vale cd...&lt;br /&gt;Pai - Ent&amp;atilde;o fica &amp;agrave; nossa escolha...Mas n&amp;atilde;o tem nem almo&amp;ccedil;o na sexta?&lt;br /&gt;Filha - Ah, depois do trabalho eu vou no Beirute. Vem tb.&lt;br /&gt;Pai - T&amp;aacute; bom... 8hs?&lt;br /&gt;Filha - Ah, depois das 6... &amp;eacute; s&amp;oacute; ir chegando...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considerem-se convidados.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110103933036047203?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110103933036047203/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110103933036047203' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110103933036047203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110103933036047203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/alou-pai-e-ent-ir-chegando.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110103680969192389</id><published>2004-11-21T09:33:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T09:47:32.263-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Viver com rancor faz mal.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto crescer esse bolor aqui dentro, eu vou sempre ficar assim.&lt;br /&gt;E nem adianta olhar pro outro lado se o problema est&amp;aacute; aqui dentro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra um dia ser feliz eu preciso come&amp;ccedil;ar hoje.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viver com rancor faz mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se solta, se solta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110103680969192389?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110103680969192389/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110103680969192389' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110103680969192389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110103680969192389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/viver-com-rancor-faz-mal.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110100261758618657</id><published>2004-11-21T00:03:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-21T00:03:37.586-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;O filme da minha vida...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Uma Mente Brilhante&lt;/b&gt; conta a hist&amp;oacute;ria da luta do matem&amp;aacute;tico, ganhador do Pr&amp;ecirc;mio Nobel, John Nash contra a esquizofrenia. Mas voc&amp;ecirc; n&amp;atilde;o precisa ser um g&amp;ecirc;nio nos n&amp;uacute;meros para se identificar com o filme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O drama estrelado por Russell Crowe mostra momentos extremamente dif&amp;iacute;ceis da vida de Nash. Dificuldades de aceita&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o pelos colegas, interna&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o em hospital psiqui&amp;aacute;trico, crise no casamento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o filme tamb&amp;eacute;m tem suspense, romance e &amp;eacute; extremamente envolvente, daqueles que faz a gente torcer o tempo todo. Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; surpreendido pela hist&amp;oacute;ria e se apaixona pelos personagens e derrama l&amp;aacute;grimas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;A principal mensagem &amp;eacute; de otimismo!&lt;/b&gt; &amp;Eacute; o ensinamento de que uma mente brilhante pode vencer problemas t&amp;atilde;o graves quanto a loucura. Principalmente se voc&amp;ecirc; fizer o que gosta, contar com apoio de pessoas queridas e topar aprender com elas e ensinar o que aprendeu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://istoe.terra.com.br/gentedinamica/oscar2002/pesquisa_oscar.asp" target="_blank"&gt;Fa&amp;ccedil;a o teste vc tb&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai que al&amp;iacute;vio, ent&amp;atilde;o mesmo louca poderei vencer na vida.&lt;br /&gt;Mas fala s&amp;eacute;rio, cansei de ser eu mesma mas tb n&amp;atilde;o sei ser outra coisa, ser&amp;aacute; tarde demais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh, inferno astral...Hahaha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110100261758618657?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110100261758618657/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110100261758618657' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110100261758618657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110100261758618657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/o-filme-da-minha-vida.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110089938533073033</id><published>2004-11-19T19:23:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-19T19:33:00.876-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Remains of the day (com "beach boys" como trilha sonora)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I keep looking for a place to fit&lt;br /&gt;Where I can speak my mind&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;rsquo;ve been trying hard to find the people&lt;br /&gt;That I won&amp;rsquo;t leave behind&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinha pedido pra Kemy me dar carona hj, ontem dormi o dia todo e nem jantei, mal almocei. &lt;br /&gt;Mas eu tinha que chegar na aula mais cedo, ia ter uma entrevista e o professor tinha me chamado para participar.&lt;br /&gt;Ent&amp;atilde;o eu fiz a Kemy acordar mais cedo s&amp;oacute; pra me buscar, olhem que pesso&amp;iacute;nha horr&amp;iacute;vel...&lt;br /&gt;Resolvi olhar na internet pra ver se tinha algo mais pra eu mostrar pro prof que eu tinha me preparado, estava meio insegura.&lt;br /&gt;Pois recebi um e-mail dele falando que n&amp;atilde;o ia ter entrevista.&lt;br /&gt;Liguei desesperada pra Kemy &amp;agrave;s 6:58 pra avisar que n&amp;atilde;o precisava mais vir.&lt;br /&gt;Mas nem cconsegui dormir de novo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;They say I got brains&lt;br /&gt;But they ain&amp;rsquo;t doing me no good&lt;br /&gt;I wish they could&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O filhinho do chefe veio hj, ficou me rodeando at&amp;eacute; soltar...&lt;br /&gt;"Essa &amp;eacute; a mesa DO FULANINHO!", apontando pra plaquinha com o nome do cara que fica na mesa onde eu trabalho.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ia explicar que a mesa n&amp;atilde;o era dele, somos todos estagi&amp;aacute;rios lix&amp;atilde;o, sem direito &amp;agrave; nada, por acaso ele costuma usar aquele pc no seu turno e calharam de colocar uma plaquinha pra ele l&amp;aacute;, j&amp;aacute; eu n&amp;atilde;o tenho plaquinha pq sou a mais lix&amp;atilde;o dos estagi&amp;aacute;rios, na verdade deu vontade de encher o moleque de tapa, eu fiquei desviando o rosto e falando, "ah &amp;eacute;?", "ah&amp;atilde;", e o coisinha continuava, "VOU CONTAR PRA ELE QUE VC T&amp;Aacute; NA MESA DELE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Each time things start to happen again&lt;br /&gt;I think I got something good goin&amp;rsquo; for myself&lt;br /&gt;But what goes wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liguei pra minha m&amp;atilde;e pra passar o nome do cabelereiro dela pra R&amp;ecirc;, ela j&amp;aacute; depois do "oi m&amp;atilde;e" me contou que havia passado 3 horas no dentista fazendo tratamento de canal, que est&amp;aacute; com os dentes todos cariados, que est&amp;atilde;o doendo, incr&amp;iacute;vel como eu fiquei com vontade de chorar mas ela foi contando numa boa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;(can&amp;rsquo;t find nothin&amp;rsquo; I can put my heart and soul into)&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;(can&amp;rsquo;t find nothin&amp;rsquo; I can put my heart and soul into)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembrei que ela vai pra SP no domingo, ontem ela ficou pela casa cantarolando, "Vou pra biena-al! Vou pro Muse-eu! Vou passe-a-ar!", ai que inveja...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vimos a palestra do Kokubun sensei, ah que fofo ele falando ingl&amp;ecirc;s! Quero um chaveiro do Kokubun!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Every time I get the inspiration&lt;br /&gt;To go change things around&lt;br /&gt;No one wants to help me look for places&lt;br /&gt;Where new things might be found&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nossa que desespero pra voltar pra casa...Logo essa semana que a chefe falou que eu virei a estagi&amp;aacute;ria mor...eu tou m&amp;oacute; de saco cheio das coisas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where can I turn when my fair weather friends cop out&lt;br /&gt;What&amp;rsquo;s it all about&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, what's it all about???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Each time things start to happen again&lt;br /&gt;I think I got something good goin&amp;rsquo; for myself&lt;br /&gt;But what goes wrong&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei l&amp;aacute;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;(can&amp;rsquo;t find nothin&amp;rsquo; I can put my heart and soul into)&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel very sad&lt;br /&gt;(can&amp;rsquo;t find nothin&amp;rsquo; I can put my heart and soul into)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A essa altura eu j&amp;aacute; tava em &amp;oacute;rbita, olhando fotolog, ah tirei umas fotos hj! Mas fiquei com a cabe&amp;ccedil;a nessa m&amp;uacute;sica, passou tudo, fiquei o resto do tempo pensando...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just wasn&amp;rsquo;t made for these times&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu preciso me desintoxicar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: Um Han Solo cairia bem!!! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110089938533073033?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110089938533073033/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110089938533073033' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110089938533073033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110089938533073033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/remains-of-day-com-beach-boys-como.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110085879738858167</id><published>2004-11-19T08:06:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-19T08:06:37.386-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu preciso de f&amp;eacute;rias.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F&amp;eacute;rias e auto-estima.&lt;br /&gt;Preciso de um novo hobby tb, um que n&amp;atilde;o envolva computadores. Corta desenho, corta foto, corta escrever. Um hobby que n&amp;atilde;o precise usar as m&amp;atilde;os.&lt;br /&gt;Diabo de m&amp;atilde;os.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nh&amp;eacute;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisarem de mim, estarei vendo um filme pela mil&amp;eacute;sima vez.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110085879738858167?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110085879738858167/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110085879738858167' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110085879738858167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110085879738858167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/eu-preciso-de-fsima-vez.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110073837799365777</id><published>2004-11-17T22:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-17T22:39:37.993-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ai&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acabei de ver o novo do Alm&amp;oacute;dovar, tou meio bolada.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; uma mistureba de imagens perturbadoras com contexto muito humano.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute; engra&amp;ccedil;ado como as pessoas parecem v&amp;ecirc;-lo como transgressor, mas eu percebo que em todos os filmes as obcenidades, perversidades, maldades, todas s&amp;atilde;o cometidas por pessoas que sofrem, sofrem piedosamente.&lt;br /&gt;E eu sofro junto.&lt;br /&gt;Eles s&amp;atilde;o 'pecadores' mas sofrem. Pagam por seus pecados. Ningu&amp;eacute;m sai imune.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sinto um al&amp;iacute;vio culpado.&lt;br /&gt;Mas no fundo n&amp;atilde;o deixa de ser moralismo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D&amp;aacute; pra perceber que eu tou bolada?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah e o Gael &amp;eacute; lindo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110073837799365777?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110073837799365777/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110073837799365777' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110073837799365777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110073837799365777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/ai-acabei-de-ver-o-novo-do-alm-lindo.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110065180062375695</id><published>2004-11-16T22:36:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T22:36:40.623-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu falei que gostava do Powel.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Powel n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; t&amp;atilde;o ruim.&lt;br /&gt;Agora o Bush ganha, Arafat morre, Powel pindura a chuteira, Condolezza assume.&lt;br /&gt;Vou construir um bunker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110065180062375695?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110065180062375695/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110065180062375695' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110065180062375695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110065180062375695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/eu-falei-que-gostava-do-powel.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110057314087792287</id><published>2004-11-16T00:45:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-16T06:35:23.056-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Lendo a m&amp;atilde;o da Baru&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mana - ai....&lt;br /&gt;Baru - t&amp;aacute; ruim?&lt;br /&gt;Mana - sua m&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; muito estranha&lt;br /&gt;Baru - hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;Mana - a linha da fortuna eh bem acentuada no meio.... e apaga quando chega nos dedo. naum &amp;eacute; bom sinal&lt;br /&gt;Baru - rs que mais&lt;br /&gt;Mana - sua linha do amor tem dois riscos fortes mas distintos, ou seja vc vai conhecer algu&amp;eacute;m tarde, tipo naum no convencional e ele vai te magoar muito vai te atrapalhar toda sua vida depois ela retorna vai encontrar outro mas naum vai viver com ele &lt;br /&gt;Baru - caraca vc t&amp;aacute; vendo tudo isso??? rs que legal fala mais&lt;br /&gt;Mana - mas o mais estranho &amp;eacute; que tem uma linha fina que liga a sua linha do cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o com a da vida. Parece que nunca vai casar mais ele vai te acompanhar uma boa jornada na tua vida, mas parece que tu vai ficar sozinha quando estiver velha. Sua linha da vida &amp;eacute; a mais constante, vc quase morreu .... no inicio da vida .,.. mas conseguiu ser forte, mas ela vai ser conturbada quando vc estiver mais velha&lt;br /&gt;essa linha tenue que corta a linha do cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o com a da vida ... &amp;eacute; o que deixa sua vida " pertubada".. e vc n&amp;atilde;o vai ser rica, naum dah pra saber se vai ser pobre rica ... ou vai ser uma sobrevivente ... mas vc vai viver muito  &amp;Ocirc; SE VAI&lt;br /&gt;Baru - hahaha&lt;br /&gt;Mana - a sua linha do cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; mais esquisita&lt;br /&gt;Baru - pq?&lt;br /&gt;Mana - ela come&amp;ccedil;a de uma lado e termina do outro eh como se vc naum pertencesse a ninguem e a nada&lt;br /&gt;Baru - wow...Vc n&amp;atilde;o tem vergonha de me dizer essas barbaridades? &lt;br /&gt;Mana - u&amp;eacute; .. mas &amp;eacute; verdade! ela &amp;eacute; eh o que te arru&amp;iacute;na financeiramente... e a sua vida...muito tosco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hum, o peixe morre pela boca e eu pelo cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110057314087792287?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110057314087792287/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110057314087792287' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110057314087792287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110057314087792287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/lendo-mo.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110043371498711977</id><published>2004-11-14T10:01:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T10:01:54.986-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Yes I'm lonely wanna die&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes I'm lonely wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning wanna die&lt;br /&gt;In the evening wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother was of the sky&lt;br /&gt;My father was of the earth&lt;br /&gt;But I am of the universe&lt;br /&gt;And you know what it's worth&lt;br /&gt;I'm lonely wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The eagle picks my eye&lt;br /&gt;The worm he licks my bone&lt;br /&gt;I feel so suicidal&lt;br /&gt;Just like Dylan's Mr. Jones&lt;br /&gt;Lonely wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The black cloud crossed my mind&lt;br /&gt;Blue mist round my soul&lt;br /&gt;Feel so suicidal&lt;br /&gt;Even hate my rock and roll wanna die&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm lonely wanna die&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm lonely wanna die&lt;br /&gt;If I ain't dead already&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, girl you know the reason why&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm lonely wanna die &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baru.vilago.com.br/Shiina Ringo - Yer Blues.mp3" target="_blank"&gt;Shiina Ringo - Yer Blues.mp3&lt;/a&gt;"Yer Blues", The Beatles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caraca, a Shiina Ringo cantando essa m&amp;uacute;sica &amp;eacute; m&amp;oacute;ito, mas m&amp;oacute;ito! M&amp;Oacute;ITO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*credu, qu&amp;eacute; que &amp;eacute; isso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.londonschoolofsamba.co.uk/public/default.asp?section=carnival&amp;page=enredo2003" target="_blank"&gt;London School of Samba&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110043371498711977?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110043371498711977/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110043371498711977' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110043371498711977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110043371498711977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/yes-im-lonely-wanna-die-yes-im-lonely.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110039970393022683</id><published>2004-11-14T00:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-14T00:35:03.930-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu cansei de escrever&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tou a fim de rebentar contudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu s&amp;oacute; n&amp;atilde;o chuto o balde de vez pq sei que um dia vai dar vontade de novo.&lt;br /&gt;Que merda, eu queria poder apertar fast forward nessa jo&amp;ccedil;a de vida.&lt;br /&gt;Bunda de vida.&lt;br /&gt;C* de vida.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, you get the picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110039970393022683?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110039970393022683/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110039970393022683' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110039970393022683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110039970393022683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/eu-cansei-de-escrever-tou-fim-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110035586253939942</id><published>2004-11-13T12:24:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-13T12:24:22.540-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Que saco.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blog chato.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110035586253939942?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110035586253939942/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110035586253939942' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110035586253939942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110035586253939942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/que-saco.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-110001404966035051</id><published>2004-11-09T13:27:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T13:27:29.660-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;sorryeveryone.com&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok,&lt;a href="http://www.boldlygoingnowhere.net/se/" target="_blank"&gt; isso&lt;/a&gt; n&amp;atilde;o muda nada, mas &amp;eacute; um esfor&amp;ccedil;o louv&amp;aacute;vel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-110001404966035051?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/110001404966035051/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=110001404966035051' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110001404966035051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/110001404966035051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/sorryeveryone.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109995736597866222</id><published>2004-11-08T21:42:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T21:46:51.020-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Essa &amp;eacute; a primeira talagada da presepada da Baru&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi dada a largada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje acordei tarde, cheguei atrasadona na aula.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tinha que estudar ou fazer algo de produtivo mas fiquei com pregui&amp;ccedil;a. N&amp;atilde;o tinha nobadi pra conversar. Acabei encontrando uma velha amiga e colocamos a conversa em dia. &lt;br /&gt;Eu precisei de comfort food.&lt;br /&gt;Encontrei um fantasma do passado, bem no lugar onde eu ia comer, fala s&amp;eacute;rio...Fui sentar num cantinho pra n&amp;atilde;o fazer contato visual. N&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o era medo que ele me visse, ele nem deve lembrar de mim. Era medo de ficar olhando fantasma.&lt;br /&gt;Ent&amp;atilde;o eu n&amp;atilde;o ag&amp;uuml;entei mais e fui pro trampo mais cedo. Saindo do carro percebi que estava com a perna cabeluda feito de macaco. Grande, tou me achando t&amp;atilde;o linda esses dias. &lt;br /&gt;A&amp;iacute; passei o dia todo aguniada com n&amp;atilde;o sei o que, agunia agunia agunia. Agunia. Ai que agunia.&lt;br /&gt;Chegou a hora de ir pra aula, quem disse. Eu tava engasgada, desanimada, aguniada, j&amp;aacute; falei desanimada? &lt;br /&gt;Pensei em trancar logo essa aula, besteira fazer tanta coisa.&lt;br /&gt;Mas a&amp;iacute; fiquei imaginando, vai que aparece uma daquelas bolsas inglesas de novo, falando que vc s&amp;oacute; &amp;eacute; "eleg&amp;iacute;vel" se n&amp;atilde;o tiver trancado nenhuma mat&amp;eacute;ria, nunca. E olha l&amp;aacute; as duas mat&amp;eacute;rias que n&amp;atilde;o s&amp;atilde;o nem da minha &amp;aacute;rea sujando meu curr&amp;iacute;culo impec&amp;aacute;vel.&lt;br /&gt;Ai, vou ou n&amp;atilde;o vou, vou ou n&amp;atilde;o vou, ah eu dou conta, &amp;eacute; s&amp;oacute; hoje, j&amp;aacute; faltei demais, n&amp;atilde;o tou com o m&amp;iacute;nimo clima pra aula hoje, ah n&amp;atilde;o fui.&lt;br /&gt;E ainda peguei um engarrafamento.&lt;br /&gt;Resolvi ir pro shopping resolver uns problemas, me avisam que &amp;eacute; s&amp;oacute; por telefone, olha que lindo. Eu podia ter feito isso antes. Comfort food. Logo serei uma baleia inconsol&amp;aacute;vel.&lt;br /&gt;Passei nas Lojas Americanas e comprei um dvd vagabundo de um show vagabundo do Duran Duran. Comfort shopping. Logo serei uma mendiga inconsol&amp;aacute;vel.&lt;br /&gt;E para coroar a noite, acabo de perceber que sa&amp;iacute; na rua com a cal&amp;ccedil;a do avesso.&lt;br /&gt;Ontem a gata tinha vomitado na minha cama &amp;agrave;s 4 da manh&amp;atilde; e hoje eu vejo que ela tinha outro presente: Uma bola de grama vomitada no sof&amp;aacute; rec&amp;eacute;m-reestofado. N&amp;atilde;o sei o que foi pior, isso ou a minha m&amp;atilde;e jogando spray anti-safadeza-felina que fede a rem&amp;eacute;dio de piolho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, o coleguinha Andder largou o fotolog. &amp;Eacute;, tamb&amp;eacute;m. E nem adianta implorar pra ele voltar com um dos dois, o cara &amp;eacute; um s&amp;aacute;dico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acho que vou cortar os pulsos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, agora tamb&amp;eacute;m me chamam de Baruzinha no trabalho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109995736597866222?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109995736597866222/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109995736597866222' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109995736597866222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109995736597866222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/essa-m-me-chamam-de-baruzinha-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109976304369392069</id><published>2004-11-06T15:44:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T15:44:03.693-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Nh&amp;eacute;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu at&amp;eacute; tenho coisa pra falar, mas fica entre eu e a Aretha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tem post novo no &lt;a href="http://flog.baru.vilago.com.br" target="_blank"&gt;flog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;(tou aprendendo marketing hein!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109976304369392069?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109976304369392069/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109976304369392069' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109976304369392069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109976304369392069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/nh-tenho-coisa-pra-falar-mas-fica.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109959835366757523</id><published>2004-11-04T17:59:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T17:59:13.666-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mata a velha!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorei copiosamente ao &lt;a href="http://parn.pro.br/blog/video/starwars3teaser.mov" target="_blank"&gt;ver isso&lt;/a&gt;. Chorei de emo&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o. J&amp;aacute; vou ver de novo. Ai ser&amp;aacute; que eu aguento at&amp;eacute; ano que vem. Jesuis amado, eu tenho altas coisas pra resolver hoje. Odeio meu professor, principalemente pq sei que ele est&amp;aacute; certo. Adoro minha bolsinha nova. Odeio ficar fedendo o dia todo. Estou tentada a cortar o cabelo bem curto. Estou meio abobada com  o fato de perceber que eu estou colocando minha cabe&amp;ccedil;a nos trilhos, olha que nem foi dif&amp;iacute;cil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agrade&amp;ccedil;o ao Parn,  uma alma muito caridosa. Ali&amp;aacute;s, agrade&amp;ccedil;am todos!!! Assim ordena Darth Baru!!! MUAHAHAHA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, acabou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Remains of the Day&lt;/i&gt; ou &lt;i&gt;Eu mere&amp;ccedil;o&lt;/i&gt; ou ainda &lt;i&gt;Vai, vai criar minhoca na cabe&amp;ccedil;a pra ver no que d&amp;aacute;, vai&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - "Olha que linda a bolsa nova da Baru!"&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - "&amp;Eacute;!"&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - "Baru, p&amp;otilde;e ela pra eu ver.  Olha Dri, n&amp;atilde;o ficou linda nela? Essa bolsa &amp;eacute; a cara da Baru."&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - *pensando no que responder*&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Ela vai falar que eu pare&amp;ccedil;o uma drag!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Chefe e Kemy - ????&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Uma Drag Queen!"&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - "Mas voc&amp;ecirc; nem &amp;eacute; alta!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post novo no &lt;a href="http://flog.baru.vilago.com.br" target="_blank"&gt;Flog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109959835366757523?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109959835366757523/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109959835366757523' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109959835366757523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109959835366757523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/mata-velha-chorei-copiosamente-ao-ver.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109952998459098080</id><published>2004-11-03T22:59:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-04T00:18:32.326-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Mas nem com reza forte.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;Eacute;, n&amp;atilde;o deu. Foi Bush mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;Al&amp;eacute;m disso, hoje fiquei muito chateada. Como ningu&amp;eacute;m nunca quer ouvir essas coisas, fiquei mais chateada. Mas acabou que pude desabafar um pouco com o n&amp;uacute;cleo familiar.&lt;br /&gt;Meu irm&amp;atilde;o finalmente recebeu seu primeiro sal&amp;aacute;rio e nos levou pra jantar. &amp;Eacute; filho da minha m&amp;atilde;e mesmo. T&amp;aacute; cheio de d&amp;iacute;vida mas adora torrar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ganhei uma bolsa da minha m&amp;atilde;e e fiquei muito feliz.&lt;br /&gt;Mas hoje foi um daqueles dias que eu me senti uma imita&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o, algu&amp;eacute;m trying too hard, meio rid&amp;iacute;cula, meio problema mal resolvido.&lt;br /&gt;Uma drag queen mesmo. &lt;br /&gt;Cara, meu anivers&amp;aacute;rio t&amp;aacute; chegando. Que saco. Dois patinhos na lagoa. A vida t&amp;aacute; passando t&amp;atilde;o r&amp;aacute;pido...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, tem post novo no &lt;a href="http://flog.baru.vilago.com.br" &gt;flog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E template novo pra &lt;a href="http://erigoestojapan.blogspot.com" target="_blank"&gt;Eri&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109952998459098080?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109952998459098080/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109952998459098080' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109952998459098080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109952998459098080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/mas-nem-com-reza-forte.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109943580574999069</id><published>2004-11-02T20:50:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T21:11:01.046-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Tem post novo no Flog.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://flog.baru.vilago.com.br" target="_blank"&gt;&amp;Eacute;.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha que coisa mais feia eu cruzando os dedos pro Kerry ganhar.&lt;br /&gt;O Kerry &amp;eacute; meio bund&amp;atilde;o e eu n&amp;atilde;o tenho nada que meter o bedelho da pol&amp;iacute;tica dos outros, n&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o, nem vem, nada justifica, "ah eles fazem aqui ent&amp;atilde;o a gente tamb&amp;eacute;m pode" &amp;eacute; papo de crian&amp;ccedil;a, e eu quero mais que o Bush se f*da.&lt;br /&gt;Ai tomara que o Kerry ganhe, n&amp;eacute; por nada n&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Ei, esqueci de dizer que a foto foi roubada da cole&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o da Hiro, de quando ela foi pro Jap&amp;atilde;o. Foi mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109943580574999069?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109943580574999069/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109943580574999069' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109943580574999069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109943580574999069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/tem-post-novo-no-flog.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109935696741398326</id><published>2004-11-01T21:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T21:56:07.413-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Remains of the day&lt;/b&gt; (de novo mesmo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caraca,  acabei de ver "O Exorcista", tou bolada. Muito bolada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Escatologia 1&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um co-worker ia mudar de setor, para um outro andar. Fizeram uma pequena homenagem &amp;agrave; ele. Eu estou trabalhando tranq&amp;uuml;ila, at&amp;eacute; que...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mo&amp;ccedil;a escatol&amp;oacute;gica - Poxa...ele vai embora...n&amp;atilde;o vai ter mais ch&amp;aacute; preto pra quando eu chegar aqui de piriri!!!&lt;br /&gt;Mo&amp;ccedil;a estranha - U&amp;eacute;, piriri, &amp;eacute;?&lt;br /&gt;Mo&amp;ccedil;a escatol&amp;oacute;gica - &amp;Eacute;, teve uns dias a&amp;iacute; que eu cheguei de piriri...&lt;br /&gt;Mo&amp;ccedil;o que ia embora - O ch&amp;aacute; resolvia que era uma beleza!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Escatologia 2&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na sa&amp;iacute;da do filme, a Baru que vos escreve ainda muito bolada, uma mo&amp;ccedil;a na poltrona de tr&amp;aacute;s levanta bem tranq&amp;uuml;ila:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ai que vontade de fazer um pips...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pergunta &amp;eacute;, eu preciso dessa informa&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o &lt;i&gt;pra qu&amp;Ecirc;?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109935696741398326?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109935696741398326/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109935696741398326' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109935696741398326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109935696741398326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/11/remains-of-day-de-novo-mesmo-caraca.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109878470488369045</id><published>2004-10-26T06:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T07:14:25.296-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Tudo misturado&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Remains of the day&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(1) - &amp;Oacute;culos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - Olha, Baru, como a Dri fica linda com esses &amp;oacute;culos.&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - (fazendo cara de n&amp;atilde;o, n&amp;atilde;o concordo)&lt;br /&gt;Eu - Parece a Yoko Ono!&lt;br /&gt;Chefe e Kemy - ????&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - Ish, chamou ela de velha maluca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(2) - Eu n&amp;atilde;o mere&amp;ccedil;o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu e Hiro no muito suspeito Conic, 13:40 da tarde, indo pra rodovi&amp;aacute;ria. Na dire&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o contr&amp;aacute;ria vinha um cara estranho. Ele parou de repente na nossa frente, batendo o p&amp;eacute; no ch&amp;atilde;o. Fez um gesto estranho, meio entre dar um tchau, um tapa e chamar para perto. Ent&amp;atilde;o uma voz cavernosa e inadequada saiu de sua boca, enquando aquela figura bizarra olhava pra mim:&lt;br /&gt;Cara estranho - "OI BONITINHA!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu n&amp;atilde;o quero mais que caras estranhos, sujos e toscos me elogiem na rua. N&amp;atilde;o quero. Ouviu, Deus???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Not&amp;iacute;cias que me chocariam &amp;agrave; 10 anos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mtve.com/article.php?ArticleId=5080" target="_blank"&gt;Inimigos do Britpop se juntam ao projeto Band Aid III&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma foto do feioso e estranho, mas na minha singela opini&amp;atilde;o talentoso, Noel Gallagher, ilustra a notinha do site da MTV Europa. Damon (do Blur) e ele (do Oasis), antes inimigos mortais, do tipo que lambe o dedo indicador e aponta para o outro dizendo "vou te afogar", desejam que o outro pegue AIDS e coisa e tal, se juntam agora pra a 3a. vers&amp;atilde;o do projeto Band Aid, que angaria fundos para caridade (n&amp;atilde;o sei pra quem vai dessa vez.)&lt;br /&gt;Acho que &amp;eacute; pq agora todos os dois est&amp;atilde;o decadentes e ningu&amp;eacute;m acha gra&amp;ccedil;a em v&amp;ecirc;-los brigando.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&amp;aacute; chovendo e trovejando, eu vou &amp;eacute; dormir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me lasquei na prova hoje, pelo menos a sensei vai ter o do que rir de noite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109878470488369045?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109878470488369045/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109878470488369045' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109878470488369045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109878470488369045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/btudo-misturado-remains-of-day-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109862520283198418</id><published>2004-10-24T10:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-24T10:40:02.830-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Nuossa...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhei que eu conhecia a Jennifer Turner!!! Ela tava meio isolada do mundo e eu conhecia ela do nada. A&amp;iacute; eu ia no apartamento dela e perguntava, mas pq o Furslide acabou??? E Pq desde 1999 ningu&amp;eacute;m mais sabe nada de vc??? E pq s&amp;oacute; um &amp;aacute;lbum??? E ela explicava tudo! &amp;Ecirc;! Tavamos quase amigas quando umas pessoas no apartamento da frente viam que era ela l&amp;aacute;. Essas pessoas eram do fan-clube sei l&amp;aacute;...E tentavam invadir o apartamento!!!! A&amp;iacute; eu e ela correndo pra trancar as janelas e portas...Povo revoltado de eu estar l&amp;aacute; e eles n&amp;atilde;o...&lt;br /&gt;Sonho estranho...&lt;br /&gt;Tou lembrando que ela disse sobre s&amp;oacute; ter um &amp;aacute;lbum:&lt;br /&gt;"Pra qu&amp;ecirc; mais? As vezes uma vez &amp;eacute; o que basta."&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Jennifer Turner &amp;eacute; a vocalista do Furslide, uma banda cujo disco eu comprei no susto na quinta feira, com a Kemy.&lt;br /&gt;Est&amp;aacute;vamos almo&amp;ccedil;ando perto do trampo e me bateu uma vontade de comprar um CD. Como tudo &amp;eacute; caro, eu vou primeiro na g&amp;ocirc;ndola das promo&amp;ccedil;&amp;otilde;es, as vezes tem alguma banda obscura que eu goste encalhada, entre colet&amp;acirc;neas fajutas e cds de Forr&amp;oacute;. Pois tinha esse do Furslide, tava R$ 5,90  , eu gostei da capinha, dei uma ouvida, me amarrei. Pois o disco &amp;eacute; de 1999 e depois disso, nada de cds do Furslide. &lt;br /&gt;Uma das m&amp;uacute;sicas foi parar na trilha sonora da Buffy, a ca&amp;ccedil;a vampiros (uia), a Jennifer Turner foi exaltada como a nova Chrissy Hynde, a nova Toni Michel, a nova tudo (nem &amp;eacute; pra tanto) e fiuuu...sumiu.&lt;br /&gt;O disco &amp;eacute; meio pretensioso &amp;agrave;s vezes, nem &amp;eacute; a coisa mais original do mundo, mas &amp;eacute; muito bacana, a Jennifer tem uma voz muito vers&amp;aacute;til, al&amp;eacute;m de escrever e compor tudo, toca guitarra e tal. Eu sinto at&amp;eacute; pena pelos outros dois integrantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, nada disso &amp;eacute; interessante, mas eu queria falar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://baru.vilago.com.br/senso/arquivos/02 - Shallow.mp3" target="_blank"&gt;Shallow - Furslide&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;oacute; pra matar a curiosidade de quem tiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109862520283198418?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109862520283198418/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109862520283198418' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109862520283198418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109862520283198418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/nuossa.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109857767091150783</id><published>2004-10-23T21:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-23T21:27:50.910-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Fica genki!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - Fiz seu profile no Gree!!!&lt;br /&gt;Eu - &amp;Eacute;? Que chique!&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - &amp;oacute;!&lt;br /&gt;Eu - Ei...mas diz a&amp;iacute; que eu sou genki. Eu n&amp;atilde;o sou genki!&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - &amp;Eacute; sim! Fica genki!&lt;br /&gt;Eu- Nah....&lt;br /&gt;Kemy - Fica genki ou eu te dou um chute!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem n&amp;atilde;o entendeu eu s&amp;oacute; lamento...&lt;br /&gt;Hoje meu coleguinha de aula de Japon&amp;ecirc;s (pra quem eu sempre dou carona) tava revoltado com essa l&amp;iacute;ngua estranha. A cada dia fica pior! Se j&amp;aacute; n&amp;atilde;o bastassem as letrinhas estranhas, o modo de falar remete &amp;agrave; uma cultura com complicad&amp;iacute;ssimos labirintos sociais que nos deixam aqui pisando em ovos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "AAAAAAAAAA!!!! Esse japon&amp;ecirc;s &amp;eacute; uma merda mesmO!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Eu -"hihihihi"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "QuE FRESCURA!!! Tem um monte de palavras pra falar a mesma coisa!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "hihihihi"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "Al&amp;eacute;m disso tem altos n&amp;iacute;veis de tratamento! E quando eles resolvem falar na forma resumida????COMO EU VOU ENTENDER???"&lt;br /&gt;Eu -" hahahaha"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "Imagina eles TRANSANDO??? COMO VC VAI ENTENDER SE T&amp;Aacute; FAZENDO DIREITO???"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Hahahaha (e por dentro, ??????)"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "S&amp;oacute; se der pra adivinhar pela cara que ele fizer! ISSO SE VC TIVER AS MANHAS DE FAZER CERTO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*realmente, concordo com vcs,  conversa bizarra!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "hahahahaha"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - (muito alterado, tentando reproduzir os sons que ele acha que o japon&amp;ecirc;s faria)&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "hahahaha (ai meu deus)"&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "E eles comendo de boca cheia???"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "&amp;Eacute; uma conspira&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o pra gente n&amp;atilde;o entender o que eles falam."&lt;br /&gt;Coleguinha - "&amp;Eacute;!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;iacute; chegou o ponto dele e ele j&amp;aacute; tava mais calmo. Tomara que ele n&amp;atilde;o surte de novo, n&amp;atilde;o sei o que fa&amp;ccedil;o.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109857767091150783?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109857767091150783/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109857767091150783' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109857767091150783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109857767091150783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/fica-genki-kemy-fiz-seu-profile-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109831994272857399</id><published>2004-10-20T21:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T21:53:54.036-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Remains of the day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - "B&amp;aacute;rbara, minha cara..."&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Sim."&lt;br /&gt;Chefe - "Ah n&amp;atilde;o...*(risadinha abafada e sarc&amp;aacute;stica)*, PATR&amp;Iacute;CIA, minha cara..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - "Baru!"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "sim."&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - "Baru!... Lembrei de uma m&amp;uacute;sica. Conhece aquela? Baru, Baru...Baru da felicidade!..."&lt;br /&gt;Eu - ...&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - "Ou era 'ba&amp;uacute;'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - *me vendo estudar japon&amp;ecirc;s* "Voc&amp;ecirc; que fez essas coisinhas a&amp;iacute;?"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Ah&amp;atilde;."&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - "Voc&amp;ecirc; sabe fazer essas coisinhas?!"&lt;br /&gt;Eu -" Ah&amp;atilde;."&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - "Voc&amp;ecirc; sabe japon&amp;ecirc;s?!"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Estou estudando!"&lt;br /&gt;Co-worker - *muito assustado*"Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; maluuuuuuuuuuuca..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu andei com a saia mostradora de buzanfa. Queria me convencer que ela n&amp;atilde;o me deixa com jeit&amp;atilde;o de puta.&lt;br /&gt;Pois assobiaram pra mim quando eu atravessei a rua.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tou triste. Vai passar. Queria que se resolvesse e n&amp;atilde;o passasse, mas tudo bem...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109831994272857399?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109831994272857399/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109831994272857399' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109831994272857399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109831994272857399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/remains-of-day-chefe-bo-passasse-mas.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109798452519163552</id><published>2004-10-17T00:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-17T00:59:22.143-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;"Uma Presepada!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu irm&amp;atilde;o adora essas palavras engra&amp;ccedil;adas, toda vez que eu estou explicando algo pra ele e dou uma pausa procurando uma na cabe&amp;ccedil;a ele vem com uma dessas.&lt;br /&gt;O caso &amp;eacute; que sempre caem perfeitamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou a rainha das presepadas. Mentira, mas &amp;eacute; m&amp;oacute; legal dizer isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mais recente foi ontem, mas aposto que alguns de vcs lembram da vez que eu tirei copos do lixo pra beber &amp;aacute;gua, deletei arquivos important&amp;iacute;ssimos do meu trabalho e bebi o corante de bacterias bucais. Pois ent&amp;atilde;o, essas s&amp;atilde;o presepadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A de ontem foi a seg&amp;uuml;inte:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estava eu muito descontrolada, garrafa de Guaran&amp;aacute; de  2 litros no quarto, vendo Underworld &lt;i&gt;de novo&lt;/i&gt; (ah eu gostei). De vez enquando um pensamento-mosca vinha e avisava que tava ficando tarde e eu tinha que devolver o filme. Bem, resolvi largar tudo e ir. A&amp;iacute; comecei a fazer outra coisa, a&amp;iacute; lembrei de colocar o DVD na caixa, a&amp;iacute; achei melhor guardar o refri no seu devido lugar. N&amp;atilde;o sei pq ao sair do quarto eu esqueci o que estava fazendo e fui parar no quarto da minha m&amp;atilde;e. "O que estou fazendo aqui?" eu virei de costas e dei de cara comigo mesma no espelho do banheiro. A&amp;iacute; resolvi fazer o mantra da auto-estima: "ei, at&amp;eacute; que n&amp;atilde;o t&amp;aacute; mal, ei at&amp;eacute; que se eu jogar o cabelo assim n&amp;atilde;o fica t&amp;atilde;o mal" e fui andando at&amp;eacute; o espelho at&amp;eacute; acender a luz. Ei! O refri vai na geladeira. A&amp;iacute; eu fui at&amp;eacute; a cozinha, mas quando cheguei na sala eu vi minha m&amp;atilde;e e continuei andando at&amp;eacute; a porta de casa, abri, "Vou na locadora devolver isso aqui..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando me vi estava carregando a garrafa no bra&amp;ccedil;o direito, feito um beb&amp;ecirc;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me digam se n&amp;atilde;o &amp;eacute; uma presepada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109798452519163552?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109798452519163552/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109798452519163552' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109798452519163552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109798452519163552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/uma-presepada-meu-irm-uma-presepada.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109788653223035844</id><published>2004-10-15T21:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T21:28:52.230-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Sem coment&amp;aacute;rios&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu passando na portaria agora:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porteiro - "Eu bem pensava que essa aqui fosse evang&amp;eacute;lica!" *apontando pra mim*&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;iacute;ndica - "Ah &amp;eacute;? Pq?"&lt;br /&gt;Porteiro - "Ela passa por aqui e s&amp;oacute; usa saia!"&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;iacute;ndica - *pra mim* "Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; da assembl&amp;eacute;ia de Deus &amp;eacute;?"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - *contendo o riso, fiz 'n&amp;atilde;o' com a cabe&amp;ccedil;a*&lt;br /&gt;Sindica - "Ah, mas pois se fosse n&amp;atilde;o tinha problema n&amp;eacute;!" *animadinha demais pro meu gosto* "Escuta, filha, vc n&amp;atilde;o usa cal&amp;ccedil;a n&amp;atilde;o?"&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "n&amp;atilde;o."&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;iacute;ndica - "Nunca nunca?!" *parecia muito surpresa*&lt;br /&gt;Eu - "Ah, as vezes, mas prefiro saia" *fiquei pensando, com saia n&amp;atilde;o pare&amp;ccedil;o uma salsicha super-estufada*&lt;br /&gt;S&amp;iacute;ndica - "Mas olha...Que coisa...s&amp;oacute; usa saia..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109788653223035844?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109788653223035844/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109788653223035844' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109788653223035844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109788653223035844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/sem-coment-usa-saia.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109777847664093242</id><published>2004-10-14T15:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T17:14:32.066-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Eu tinha medo que desse isso...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.danielsuperpage.pro.br/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.danielsuperpage.pro.br/daniel/index/smallville/index/testes/teste1/lana.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; Lana Lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; uma mulher jovem e bonita, inteligente e com um cora&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o de ouro e uma &amp;acirc;nsia enorme de aprender. Voc&amp;ecirc; &amp;eacute; inteligente, doce e sincero. As pessoas amam estar ao ser redor. Sua natureza confi&amp;aacute;vel e honesta a faz ter muitos amigos. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P&amp;ocirc;, queria ser aquela loirinha chata!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109777847664093242?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109777847664093242/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109777847664093242' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109777847664093242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109777847664093242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/eu-tinha-medo-que-desse-isso.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109771448979372233</id><published>2004-10-13T21:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T08:32:27.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;É, eu deletei o post!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje minha m&amp;atilde;e me contou algo engra&amp;ccedil;ado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma mulher j&amp;aacute; de uma certa idade, muito humilde, estava vendo aquela propaganda das sand&amp;aacute;lias Ipanema da Gisele B&amp;uuml;nchen, aquela que tem a dita dan&amp;ccedil;ando na Sapuca&amp;iacute; vazia, s&amp;oacute; na chuva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Quem &amp;eacute; essa mulher sambando?", perguntou ela&lt;br /&gt;"&amp;Eacute; a mulher mais bonita do mundo!", respondeu algu&amp;eacute;m.&lt;br /&gt;"Ai, tadinha!  O que aconteceu com ela??", se assustou a senhora.&lt;br /&gt;"Como assim?"&lt;br /&gt;"U&amp;eacute; ela &amp;eacute; t&amp;atilde;o magra,  olha as pernas dela! Tadinha, ela ficou doente? Como &amp;eacute; feia! Como pode ser a mulher mais bonita do mundo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109771448979372233?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109771448979372233/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109771448979372233' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109771448979372233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109771448979372233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/eu-deletei-o-post-hoje-minha-m-feia.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109763532404197078</id><published>2004-10-12T23:42:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-14T22:56:54.740-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Vai, sua tonta&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo mundo falou mal do filme, mas como eu amo filme de terror eu aluguei.&lt;br /&gt;Toma na testa.&lt;br /&gt;Agora vou ter pesadelo. &lt;br /&gt;O filme &amp;eacute; trashz&amp;atilde;o, fico de cara como fazer CGI t&amp;aacute; barato.&lt;br /&gt;Eu amei, mas n&amp;atilde;o se enganem! "Dreamcatcher" - "O apanhador de sonhos" &amp;eacute; ruim. Eu gostei pq eu tenho s&amp;eacute;rios problemas de identidade facetada.&lt;br /&gt;O que me deixou mais de cara foi a atua&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o do Ex-New Kid on the Block &lt;a href="http://www.donniewahlberg.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Donnie Wahlberg&lt;/a&gt;, sim, aposto que vcs n&amp;atilde;o lembravam que ele era do NKOTB! Mas como eu era f&amp;atilde;zona eu lembro. Ele era o esteri&amp;oacute;tipo do mais velho e perigoso kid on the block. O Irm&amp;atilde;o dele, que &amp;eacute; mais bonit&amp;atilde;o, o Mark Wahlberg, ex- Marky Mark daquela m&amp;uacute;sica rid&amp;iacute;cula "Good Vibration", virou um ator de blockbuster, feito o remake de "O Planeta dos Macacos", (que eu amei, pra variar), mas o Donnie &amp;eacute; um ator de verdade! &amp;Eacute; o segundo filme que vejo com ele e fico de cara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://senso.baru.vilago.com.br/dreamc1.jpg" width="200" height="298" alt="" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vi tamb&amp;eacute;m "Simone", com o De Niro, muito bom! e o infame "Van Helsing". Eu poderia dizer que &amp;eacute; uma bosta, ali&amp;aacute;s eu pensava "que bosta" enquanto via, mas gostei do Comic Relief, o Wolverine &amp;eacute; realmente muito massa (apesar do personagem ser uma bosta), e o Dr&amp;aacute;cula! O Dr&amp;aacute;cula ficou igualzim o Bono. Eu adoro o Bono.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://senso.baru.vilago.com.br/richard_roxburgh5.jpg" width="360" height="240" alt="" border="0"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E amanh&amp;atilde; de volta ao batente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;UPDATE:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que podre, confundi o DeNiro com o Pacino.&lt;br /&gt;Ainda estou conhando com o Alfa Romeo que a menina ganha no filme...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109763532404197078?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109763532404197078/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109763532404197078' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109763532404197078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109763532404197078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/vai-sua-tonta-todo-mundo-falou-mal-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109745985311636312</id><published>2004-10-10T22:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-10T22:57:33.116-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Meu pai e minha m&amp;atilde;e&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tinha uma festa de crian&amp;ccedil;a (meu priminho) e eu n&amp;atilde;o fui. Gra&amp;ccedil;as a Deus tinha coisa pra fazer. N&amp;atilde;o estava muito a fim de ver a minha fam&amp;iacute;lia, se &amp;eacute; que vcs me entendem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso &amp;eacute; s&amp;oacute; a introdu&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha m&amp;atilde;e contou que meu pai estava l&amp;aacute;, e como ela &amp;eacute; muito sarc&amp;aacute;stica (agora vcs sabem de onde vem o meu sarcasmo), ao ver ele colocando um copo de pl&amp;aacute;stico cheio de cajuzinho na bolsa da mulher dele, falou:&lt;br /&gt;"Ah..&amp;eacute; pra B&amp;aacute;rbara, n&amp;eacute;?"&lt;br /&gt;Meu pai arregalou os olhos (ela n&amp;atilde;o disse que ele fez isso, mas eu conhe&amp;ccedil;o a figura) e falou:&lt;br /&gt;"N&amp;atilde;o! &amp;Eacute; meu! &amp;Eacute; Meu!"&lt;br /&gt;E a minha m&amp;atilde;e rindo por dentro.&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;iacute; ele come&amp;ccedil;a...&lt;br /&gt;"Olha, deixa eu te contar. &amp;Eacute; que na festa passada disseram que iam deixar pra mim e n&amp;atilde;o sobrou nada. Voc&amp;ecirc; sabe como eu gosto de cajuzinho. Se eu n&amp;atilde;o pegar agora n&amp;atilde;o sobra pra mim."&lt;br /&gt;Minha m&amp;atilde;e concordava com a cabe&amp;ccedil;a, querendo rir.&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhh...&lt;i&gt;ent&amp;atilde;o&lt;/i&gt; EU tenho que pegar pra B&amp;aacute;rbara."&lt;br /&gt;E o meu pai:&lt;br /&gt;"Esse-&amp;eacute;-meu!"&lt;br /&gt;Da&amp;iacute; a pouco minha m&amp;atilde;e, num momento que ela sabia que meu pai tava olhando, fingiu que ia roubar os cajuznhos dele.&lt;br /&gt;"&amp;Eacute; meu! &amp;Eacute; meu!"&lt;br /&gt;E a minha m&amp;atilde;e rindo.&lt;br /&gt;Uma hora, j&amp;aacute; no final da festa,  ela levantou e vou pegar uns docinhos pra mim, coisa que ela sempre faz pra mim e eu sempre fa&amp;ccedil;o pra ela, &amp;eacute; normal mesmo. Foi colocando na bolsa. Eis que vem meu pai com docinhos tamb&amp;eacute;m e, em tom de confid&amp;ecirc;ncia, disse:&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;i&gt;Esses&lt;/i&gt; aqui s&amp;atilde;o pra B&amp;aacute;rbara. Olha, deixa eu te contar. &amp;Eacute; que na festa passada disseram que iam deixar pra mim e n&amp;atilde;o sobrou nada. Voc&amp;ecirc; sabe como eu gosto de cajuzinho. Se eu n&amp;atilde;o tivesse pegado naquela hora n&amp;atilde;o tinha sobrado pra mim..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa historinha resume bem a rela&amp;ccedil;&amp;atilde;o entre meus pais, ainda bem que eles n&amp;atilde;o s&amp;atilde;o mas casados. Resume tamb&amp;eacute;m como a minha m&amp;atilde;e me trata e como meu pai me trata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No final eu me dei bem, ganhei o dobro de doces. S&amp;oacute; que o pacote do meu pai veio cheio de doce que&lt;i&gt; ele &lt;/i&gt;gosta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria que algu&amp;eacute;m tivesse me dito que meu pai era assim. Foi muito ruim aprender na marra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas podia ser pior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N&amp;atilde;o falo isso por saber que poderia ser pior, pq pai eu s&amp;oacute; vou ter esse, nem adianta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas &amp;eacute; bom falar isso as vezes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109745985311636312?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109745985311636312/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109745985311636312' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109745985311636312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109745985311636312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/meu-pai-e-minha-m-bom-falar-isso-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7395978.post-109728581606267016</id><published>2004-10-08T22:36:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T22:36:56.063-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Isso eu tenho que falar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tem um vazamento perigos&amp;iacute;ssimo aqui no pr&amp;eacute;dio, est&amp;aacute; minando &amp;aacute;gua na caixa de luz, periga a pegar fogo.&lt;br /&gt;Ningu&amp;eacute;m sabe de onde est&amp;aacute; vindo a &amp;aacute;gua, claro.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje resolveram quebrar as paredes pra ver se achavam.&lt;br /&gt;Bem, acharam foi umas cuecas sujas penduradas pelos canos hahahahaha!!!&lt;br /&gt;Alguma mo&amp;ccedil;a enciumada jogou fora as cuecas do dign&amp;iacute;ssimo pelo vasculhante (ou basculhante, sei l&amp;aacute;) do banheiro.&lt;br /&gt;Viu, Leela, a gente desce ainda mais baixo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7395978-109728581606267016?l=ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/feeds/109728581606267016/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7395978&amp;postID=109728581606267016' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109728581606267016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7395978/posts/default/109728581606267016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ilsensodellecose.blogspot.com/2004/10/isso-eu-tenho-que-falar-tem-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Baru</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04514226841220365264</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
